The Fine Line Between Truth and Dreams
by Aura Break
Summary: Three years after the War of the Lions, King Delita still continues to rule all of Ivalice. However, all that he cherishes is soon taken away from him as he wakes up to once again a common servant, with a new Prince taking his spot on the throne.
1. Chapter 1

The Fine Line Between Truth and Dreams.

By Xero and JSB

Disclaimer: The authors of this story do not own FFT or FFTA or the characters contained within. They belong to their creators, and Square-Enix.

Out of all the things in the world, perhaps one of the most curious is one of the most simple - Snow. A simplistic showering of little frozen flakes that rain down in place of rain if the weather is just right. Too cold, and you get hail. Too warm, and its more like slush. In St. Ivalice, the snow was always just right.

The snow covered everything in the city, from the large monumental buildings, to the small grass covered lawns. It snowed so often that the streets were often left alone, to be buried like everything else in St. Ivalice. It was truly mesmerizing, to see such a gray city become radiant when covered in the white snow.

However, with this mysterious, yet wonderfully beautiful existence of snow, also comes the chilling cold that cuts right to the bone. To counter this the citizenry tend to either stay inside, or bundle up and enjoy the beauty of the snow-covered city.

Those who are particularly fond of the cold white substance, namely the children of St. Ivalice, would often partake in friendly games centered around it. From constructing snowmen and forts, to snowball throwing matches, it was quite a common sight to see several of the younger citizens running about. However, there seemed to be one small group that was not partaking in such activities, and had instead were circled around a strangely old book in the warm comforts of a room shut off from the cold outside world.

This was understandable though, considering one of the four children was bound to a wheelchair, and wouldn't be able to enjoy the wonders of the snow covered city.

"So, did you bring the book, Mewt?" The only girl in the group asked, her tone lightly laced with an air of superiority. The red head was something of a bossy girl, used to taking an authoritative position - One would expect as much from a class head - but would often overplay the part.

"...Yes," The timid boy responded, holding tightly onto the book for fear of losing it somehow. His free hand rubbed the wetness from the melted snow out of his brown, curly hair. Or at least, he tried to.

"It looks pretty old, you sure we'll be able to read it?" The blond boy asked, looking at the strange book skeptically. The leather bound book had a strange design all around it, and it's pages looked rather worn to be a book of recent times.

"We'll find out when we open it, Marche" the boy in the wheelchair stated, causing his older brother to frown slightly, before shrugging casually. They were all curious as to what this mysterious book was about. It had an air about it, between its aged look and curious design, that made one think of fantasy stories.

Mewt, having set the book down while all of them gathered around it, opened the aged cover with care so as not to accidentally cause it to be damaged. Marche, having moved next to the timid boy, blinked as something became immediately apparent on viewing the pages within.

"I can't read this... What language is it?" The blond frowned, looking over to his brother. "Donad, you read a lot. Can you read it?"

"It's Latin" The girl pipped up in a matter-of-fact manner. "You'd know that if you paid attention in school."

"I'm new there, remember?" Marche pointed out, before blinking as something occurred to him. "Wait, you guys learn Latin here? Most places just teach you something easy, like Spanish."

"Of course." Ritz stated, puffing her chest out with pride, before deflating a little. "Well, we only learned a bit." She scratched her cheek lightly, feeling a little guilty for exaggerating.

"Alta... Oron, Sondus... Kamee?" The until-then silent Mewt spoke up, reading off a sentence in the book before frowning as he struggled with the last word. "...I can't tell what the last part is..."

Both the blond and the red head blinked at the interruption, surprised by the timid boy's apparent ability to read the book - At least, mostly.

"Feh, showoff," The redheaded girl stated, turning her head away from them.

Despite any of them not being able to truly read the book, they still looked through it, marveling at the strange, yet beautifully written words. They left it completely up to their imaginations as to what the words meant, and joked about them being magic spells. All too soon, their time was up, and Mewt and Ritz had to leave for home. They said their goodbyes before parting ways, knowing that they would see each other at school the next day. Well, except for Donad.

(-)

High on up on a balcony that looked over the capitol cit, stood the king. He was rather young to be a king, and possessed no royal blood to speak of. His sole claim to the kingdom was through his tragically cut-short marriage to the late queen, not a glimpse of noble heritage marking him. His golden armor practically glowed in the sunlight, giving him the image of a holy warrior, chosen by the gods to take upon the role of king. His red hair was combed back, allowing all to see his face that would show no fear. His eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed scowled as he looked over his kingdom, not turning to face the man that had just walked on the balcony. He didn't like to be disturbed during his free time. He spent too much time as it was dealing with the affairs of his kingdom.

"Your majesty, a gift has arrived for you," the servant stated, standing by the entrance to the balcony. The king turned to face him, an expression of displeasure adorning his face.

"Who is it from?" He inquired, the question a mere formality as he held little interest in whatever object some noble had seen fit to try and win his favor with - An occurrence that had happened unendingly since his ascent to the throne.

"The messenger didn't know the sender's name, only that he is an old friend of your majesty's. The king growled angrily, snatching the parcel from the servant's hands before turning away to face his kingdom again.

"Leave," he commanded, not bothering to look at the servant again. He stared at the oddly shaped package, wrapped in leather, noting it's simplicity. It definitely wasn't a lord trying to gain favor. It was far too plain a package for that.

"By your leave." The servant said before obeying the command. The king slowly undid the hemp tie, before removing the leather covering. His eyes widened upon seeing the green stone, holding it closer to examine it. His eyes would have widened more were it in their power as he confirmed his suspicion on what the object he now held was. A stone of odd composition, with a zodiac symbol carved into it - This particular one bearing the marking of Sagittarius.

The meaning of this did not escape him, as the same zodiac sign marked the time of the young King's birth. It was not a difficult feat by any means to connect together how the pieces fit, as precious few people would be able to call him an old friend and know the time of his birth - As well as the fact of what it was that had been sent. Clenching the stone tighter in his grip, the King put a hand to his head, feeling a sudden sense of weariness overcome him.

"Ramza... What are you trying to do, sending me this? And... If not you, who? For what purpose?" The man muttered, staving off the memories that came unbidden. That was all behind him now, in the past to which he had thrown away. No, sacrificed was a better term. It was not for nothing, after all, that he had done what he had. Yet, it would seem his old friend was not yet done clinging to a friendship that by all rights should have ended several times over. He certainly would not have held on so tightly had their roles been reversed, and he would not begrudge the renegade heretic if he had disclaimed their friendship for all the suffering he had no doubt caused. Forcing down these ill thoughts, not wishing to dwell on the subject further, the King turned his steadfast gaze onto the lands below once more with determination.

"I do not regret the choices I have made. It was required if I was to insure none would step upon me again, and that there would not be another like Teta. This, if nothing else, I swear." Glaring at the stone in his hand, he frowned before addressing it as if the person he was aiming his words at. "Your attempts to shake me are fruitless. I do not know what result you thought might occur from this, Ramza, but it will not change anything. Still, this gift from you is one I shall keep - Out of respect for what we once held dear."

Giving his kingdom one last look, Delita Hyral, King of Ivalice, strode back inside his castle. He had more business to take care of before the day was through. He didn't have time to worry about the past, and the people he had known. He had a kingdom to run.

(-)

The door to the small room slammed shut, which was followed by the sound of masculine voice yelling. The teenage boy ignored the yells of his father, and threw his bag to the floor before sitting down on his bed. His face was once again covered in bruises from another fight he had gotten into due to his sharp tongue. Not that he wouldn't have been beat up anyway. He just felt it was better to point out the assaulter's lack of intelligence before it happened. Gave him a little joy to go with the pain.

The brown-haired boy unconsciously rubbed one of the spots, wincing slightly at the pain it caused. Those infections on the human race didn't seem to understand their own shortcomings. They would get their comeuppance one day, that was for sure.

"Mewt! Get down here!" His father yelled again. Quickly, the boy in question rushed to his door, locking it before his father could come up the stairs and enter his room. The man was definitely drunk again, letting the man in would probably result in more bruises from getting beaten. Though, he really couldn't blame the man, having gotten fired from his job a few days ago.

Mewt glanced around his room, hoping something would grab his interest since he had nothing to do now that he was home. His eyes lingered on the bookshelf he hadn't touched in a while, before deciding to give reading a book a try. He glanced at all the titles that were on each of the book's binding, not finding any of them to be of interest. It wasn't until he found a book with no title that his interest was piqued, and he pulled it off the shelf, dusting off the top of it. Mewt looked over it's leather bound cover, finding the strange designs oddly familiar. When had he bought the book?

Mewt shrugged, not feeling the need to wonder on it anymore. Opening it up, he was greeted with Latin text, and it all came back to him. This was the book he had bought years ago, and wanted to read with his new friends, Ritz and Marche, back when he was in elementary school. Of course, they were no longer friends, having split off into different areas of interest come high school

Ritz had worked her way to becoming the Student Body President, unsurprisingly. She had a drive to become a leader, as well as the attitude to command others. She now dyed her hair a multitude of different colors, besides just the red she had used to. Last he knew, she had entered a relationship with one of the most popular kids at school. Of course, she worked him like a slave. He almost felt sympathy for the kid. Almost.

Marche, well, he had tried to be his friend the longest, and had lasted to halfway through middle school The blonde boy had taken a liking to sports, more specifically hockey, and had devoted almost all his time to the sport. This left him with no time in which to spend with Mewt, and so their friendship had degraded to a mere friendly acknowledgement on the occasions they should bump into each other

As for himself, well... He had soon found out he was a genius in his own right. The only problem was that he really didn't see much point in applying himself, beyond what was required of him, but not any farther than he had to - Lacking any ambition to do so of his own initiative. His work was still perfect, even if it was done halfheartedly. It was possibly this ease in which he completed school work that had drawn even more attention from bullies down upon him, much worse than his earlier school years when bullying was mostly words - Hurtful, in their own way, but the hurt of an insult was somewhat preferable to the ache of a bruised rib.

Flipping the page, he came upon the phrase that he had tried to speak all those years ago, and yet couldn't finish it. Looking at it now, he laughed at his childhood intelligence of old, now seeing how simple the word truly was. Mastering Latin after a few classes in school might be part of the reason. Deciding to finish what his twelve year old had started, he read the words out loud, full of confidence.

"Alta Oron, Sondus Kameela."

(-)

"Delita! Get up!" A voice called through his dreams, causing him to crack open his eye. He was instantly assaulted by the bright light of the sun, streaming through the manor window. He closed it once more, annoyed that he had been woken so early, and rolled over to continue his slumber.

"Get up you lazy fool! You have to help serve our master's meal, before they make it to the dining room. Surely they'll punish you if you don't!" A deep voice said urgently, and Delita curled up in reaction to the man pulling away his covers. Cracking open both eyes, he groaned, stretching a bit before sitting up on his bed. It was nice that their lords gave their servants beds to sleep on. He glanced over to the man who woke him up, now getting dressed and prepared for the day's work.

"Thanks Lawrence, I doubt I would have woken without your help." Delita stated, rubbing his eyes, before he too got about getting dressed.

"You've been saying that since a year ago, and you still have not changed that habit of yours." Lawrence commented with a wry grin as he straightened his collar. "I'll meet you in kitchen. Don't be late!"

"Yeah, I got you." The redheaded man muttered, hurriedly trying to put his boot on. Who knows what the head servant would have him do today. Hopefully it wasn't anything too hard. Without worrying about it anymore, and finally finishing dressing, he rushed out of the servants' quarters, which was devoid of life by that time in morning. Hurrying on his way through the less than ideal hall that lead into the servants' quarters, being far too cramped to be a respectable passageway like the much more expansive halls in the castle proper, Delita arrived at the kitchen soon enough - Sooner than he usually would, at least, as he had made good time this particular morning.

"Hey, Hyral! You're barely late today, that's a first." The cook laughed. The redheaded servant rolling his eyes at the comment. They would never let him get over his tardiness, even when he was on time. The cook nodded in the direction of a serving tray, already prepared, and waved him along. "Well, hurry it up then, the Master will be expecting a meal waiting for him when he gets down to the dining room - Not the other way around."

Delita, with practiced ease, scooped up the tray and was on his way - Easily keeping it balanced at his quick pace, though there were a few close calls when he took a corner slightly faster than he should have. Unlike the servants quarters, the main sections of the castle were full of life and movement - Various servants performing various jobs - and the young man was forced to carefully dodge this way and that in order to keep moving and avoid running into anything or anyone.

Finally, after much maneuvering and quick feet movement, Delita had finally arrived at his destination; The family dining room. Thankfully he had made it before any of the family members had arrived. Quickly, and yet skillfully, the young man placed the platter down on the table in its rightful spot, before backing away. He had just made it to his spot in the lineup of waiting servants before the master of the house had stepped inside the room, who looked over the table with an inspecting eye. And Delita had thought he was early too.

The master soon sat down at the head of the table, his posture straight, and waited silently as the rest of the family to come to breakfast. Despite how critical of the servants Master Sadalfas was, he was also very kind to them. It was his children the servants had to watch out for. Some went out of their way just to mess with the poor servants, which was something Delita had much experience with, as much as he hated the treatment. It was a living though.

Soon enough, all of the members of the family had made it down for breakfast, most still half asleep as they trudged to their seats and all but flopped into their seats. Oh how he wished he could be so lucky, to take it easy and rest as long as he would like. However, he didn't have that option, and he and his sister, Teta, had to work as servants in order to survive.

The meal finally started, and the mealtime servants all waited in a line next to the wall, ready to be called upon at any moment to assist the family members. Even in a drowsy state, one of the family members still had enough wit about him to maintain his usual rituals. That ritual being to annoy Delita as much as possible, generally in a manner that left him no recourse but to go along with it. The second of the Sadalfas siblings, a young man his own age by the name of Algus, looked over to him with a cruel twinkle in his eye but otherwise lacking expression. Raising a hand, he gave a motion for him to come over.

Delita would have groaned if that wouldn't have gotten him in trouble, wondering what new annoyance the noble had cooked up for him. Make him re-cook his meal even though he didn't know much about cooking? Make him fetch some menial thing that would most definitely not be in any easy place to find? He wouldn't put it past him, well remembering the time Algus had ordered him to fetch his handkerchief only to dismiss it as being unneeded once he had actually found the blasted thing. The prank, though of a meaner sort, had caused him to be behind on his entire days duties and ended up quite nearly getting him in trouble.

"Yes, Lord Algus?" Delita asked, feeling annoyed by the need to be so formal with the other youth.

"It seems this fork has a spot on it. Be a good lad and fetch me a new one?" The noble asked, only the barest hint of humor betraying his true intention. Delita sighed mentally, but let no outward sign show, and took the fork that Algus flippantly handed to him before moving to fetch a new one. He could already see how this one would play out, and he was slightly amused by the fact that Algus seemed to have run out of good ideas. Really, this one was just petty and not the least bit clever. Though, it would be no less annoying.

After having switched the fork for a clean one, Delita made his way back to the table, and held the for out for the lordling. The man looked it over just barely right before he smiled in a most maniac manner, and opened his mouth to speak.

"Algus! You don't have time to be having fun with the help." Lord Sadalfas yelled from his spot, glaring at his son. Delita might have been shocked that the Lord of the castle had defended him, except there really wasn't much time to fool around. The Prince was coming to visit after all. Algus, now angry and upset he didn't have his morning fun, grabbed the fork and went about eating with the rest of his family. Soon the meal ended, and the servants went about clearing the table before they moved onto their next daily chore.

Delita let out a sigh of relief, happy that his next job was a simple and quite easy, considering how tidy Lord Sadalfas was. It would take far less time to clean than Algus' usual mess of a room. The young servant wasn't certain if it was the similarly aged lordling's natural inclination to be messy, or the fact that he had servants who would clean for him and thusly didn't bother with watching his rooms state. Of course, it could also be typical Algus making things harder for the servants than it already was. The Sadalfas heir seemed to believe the lower commoner class to be some form of lesser creature, judging from the way he tormented them - Though a great deal of his cruelty was aimed in a more overt and focused manner at himself, when there was nobody around but them lest someone betray the truth to Lord Sadalfas - plus his harsh words regarding the merits of nobility and the "place" of commoners.

Pushing aside such unpleasant thoughts, not wishing to anger himself over mere memory of words, Delita set about tidying up the small mess that the Lord of the castle had left in his waking. It really wasn't that much at all. The sheets and blankets for the bed were unkempt, though hardly strewn about like the ones of Algus' sister, who was apparently a fitful sleeper and would miraculously manage to knot the bedding up into a ball during the night. There were a few things out of place, a sock hanging over the edge of a half-open drawer for example, but literally nothing that wouldn't take ten or so minutes to get back into perfection. Of course, after this he had to polish up Lord Sadalfas' armor, said Lord allowing such on learning the youth enjoyed being around such objects - No doubt the Lord believed it was out of some desire to wear such armor and possess the standing that came with it, and that would not be far from the truth in the least.

While adjusting the various objects on the bedside table, mostly consisting of trinkets of varying worth - Though no doubt being of value to Lord Sadalfas, as many of them were mementos of some manner or other - including a rusted pendant whose chain had long since been broken, a twinkle of something green caught his eye. It had been brief, when he had shifted out of the way just long enough for a ray of sunlight to strike the ajar drawer of the table. A good servant would merely shut the drawer and be on their way, putting it out of sight and out of mind, but youth has a irresistible fascination with all things curious no matter what ill might befall them due to indulging in such fancies.

"What is this, then?" Delita wondered, spotting the source as he gently slid the drawer open the rest of the way and spotted the thing that had caught his eye. A stone, it seemed... But a most curious one. It was green, and made of some form of material he couldn't place. There also seemed to be something carved into it, but he was not able to make it out due to it being half-hidden by the stones round curve. Having the presence of mind to look around first, the youth spotted no one in his hurried glance before sticking a hand down to grasp the mysterious green stone.

A light flashed before his eyes, and random images began to flow through him and the memories that came with them. After what seemed forever of a lifetime of events, Delita shook his head before rubbing it with his free hand. He...He was king, and yet, here he was being a servant. It was all so confusing to him, how he should be king right now, how his sister had been murdered, how he had killed that bastard Algus.

This wasn't right! He shouldn't be a servant! He should be king! Or should he? He didn't know anymore, but he knew he was going to think about it more, maybe talk it over with someone. Teta would listen. Delita knew for sure she would listen, and wouldn't think him completely mad. With that plan in mind, Delita left his master's room, stone in hand, without completing the task he had come in to do.

(-)

Ritz shivered slightly as a cool wind blew along her body, and she reflexively cuddled closer to the other source of heat. That source would be her boyfriend, Lyle, who had stayed the night due to the massive amount of snow. They didn't do anything "special" of course, just ended up sleeping in the same bed. Of course, she had him whipped enough to not try anything or his life would get much worse. It was too bad that the light of the morning sun was too bright to keep awake anymore, and so, Ritz squinted her eyes, still only seeing blurred images due to just waking up. Finally being able to take in her surroundings, she immediately started to panic, realizing she was not in her room anymore. In fact, it looked like she was laying down on a patch of soft grass, with her shirtless boyfriend.

She stared up at the blue sky trying to figure out how she had gotten there. Obviously Lyle had taken her here in the middle of the night. He probably even did unmentionable things to her unconscious body, like touching, feeling, li...She shook her head violently to remove the dirty thoughts from her mind, causing her navy blue hair to move about. Damn Lyle for using her in such sickening ways! Turning to said boyfriend, she was about to scream at him to wake up, only to stop when she noticed two things.

One: His body was completely gray, completely ridden of the normal pink fleshy colors of a normal human being. And Two: His body was cold to the touch. Panicking more, and muttering to herself how he couldn't be dead, she checked for a heartbeat, feeling nothing on his chest above his heart. She instantly stood up, almost hyperventilating as she backed away from her dead boyfriend.

If he was dead, then that means people would think she killed him! Her breathing got faster and faster, and she held her hands against her chest, in order to try and calm herself, with little success. After hearing a moan come from him did she finally start to calm down. That one noise seemed to be all the rational she needed to believe he was alive, despite all the evidence that was against it. When Lyle's body began to finally move, she smiled, knowing that his cold body and lack of heart beat were just tricks of her mind. Said smile vanished however as her previous anger returned and she gave a heavy smack to the back of the unnaturally colored boy's head.

"Lyle, you jerk! What did you bring us out here for?" The blue haired girl huffed, ignoring the odd moan that the boy gave in response as she continued her rant. "Honestly, I don't even know why I put up with you. I told you what would happen if you did anything strange, so now I guess I'm going to have to show you I meant business!"

This rant was cut off, however, as the boy turned his face towards her and she caught a glimpse of his glazed expression - His facial features being slack and limp, as if no muscle was being used to put them into a proper expression. Stepping backwards in surprise, the girl faltered. What was with that look? It was really unnerving, and in combination with all the other things she had noticed since waking up, pointed at one particular thing. She refused to consider that, however, as that was an absurd notion and it would be silly to entertain it for a moment. This was probably just some dumb prank by her idiot boyfriend and his two idiot friends.

"Oh cut it out, Lyle." Ritz dismissed, crossing her arms and huffing in annoyance. "I'm not going to fall for that stupid joke. What do you take me for?" The only response she got was another long and drawn out groan. He was still trying to keep the act up huh?

"Stop it Lyle, it wasn't funny before, it's not funny now." She pointed her finger at him to emphasize her point. She was still met with the same response as Lyle stalked slowly closer, clear liquid dripping out of his mouth. She frowned, annoyed that he was still trying to act this out, despite how it had failed. She smirked slightly as she thought of the ultimate initiative to make her boyfriend stop this charade.

"Okay! If you stop this now, I'll let you touch these!" She said, leaning forward to give him as good a view as she could. It had to work, and if it didn't, well...things had gone from bad to much, much worse. She'd sooner believe the option she was ignoring than consider that Lyle would resist such an offer over a lame joke. And unfortunately for her, she was met with another low groan. And then she could do the only thing she could think of, now realizing she was face to face with a real, honest-to-God zombie.

She screamed.

And then she ran like a bat out of hell.

(-)

"Teta...what's taking so damn long," the redheaded young man muttered as he waited outside the servants' quarter. He had told her almost a half hour ago to go pack her things so they could leave. This place wasn't real, it shouldn't be real. Heck, his sister was supposed to be dead, and he idly wondered why he felt the need to bring her with him. Teta was his sister, and he could not leave her behind, even if his memories told him she was dead.

His thoughts were pushed aside when he saw his sister round the corner, and picked up what little supplies he had packed. Looking at her, she was just as she was before, and had nothing with her, which was odd considering she had told him she would be ready to leave.

"Teta...where is your bag?" He asked, getting a really bad feeling from the saddened look she gave him in response.

"I'm sorry brother, but you know the rules," She said, her eyes downcast. It was then he noticed another figure appear from around the corner, wearing that obnoxious grin he couldn't stand anymore.

"Claiming to be king is one of the greatest crimes against the kingdom, as you know. As a member of the Sadalfas family, I'm afraid I must kill you where you stand." Algus said, walking forward towards the two siblings.

Delita could hardly believe it. He was betrayed by his very dear sister. This couldn't be right, his sister would never let him be killed, would she? One glance at the saddened face told him she wasn't going to stop it. At that point, the man who claimed to be king knew that this was all a lie, and began to laugh.

"Hehehe...haha...I see. So it is true then." He stated, before grinning to himself. "Teta, my dear sister...You are dead to me!" Delita shouted angrily at his sister, causing her to gasp in surprise. Tears immediately formed in her eyes, and she ran off, leaving Algus and Delita behind.

"Wow...now that was just mean. I mean, you love your sister don't you?" Algus questioned, still maintaining the humored expression he showed up with. Those siblings were just so much fun to mess around with. "You know, if you beg for forgiveness, and work for no pay, I'll find it in my heart to forget this whole thing about being king. It's the least I can do for your services so far."

"I'd rather be dead than work for an asshole like you for any longer. Also my sister has been dead for 6 years."

Algus' amusement faded in the face of the insult, but confusion mixed in with his ire at the ending comment. Only two ideas came to him to explain such a odd statement, and that was that either this was the most absurd lie he'd yet heard, or the servant had really lost his mind. Delita, from what the noble knew of him, wouldn't have treated his sister in such a manner for some lie, so that left him believing the alternative. "So you really have gone mad? You believe that absurd lie? How... pathetic."

Delita ignored the other man's obvious attempts to bait him, though he himself still wasn't absolutely sure he hadn't gone insane - He was in some kind of horrid delusion after all. Out of a overconfident sense of safety, nothing having ever resulted from their confrontations in the past, Algus stepped closer and looked down on the servant as he placed a hand on the hilt of the sword at his side. "What was it, I wonder, that caused you to stick to this sad state - Even for a servant? I could almost understand it, the life of chattel must be a grim one if you flee to some fantasy. A sign of a weaker man, that you run from your troubles. This world has no place for weaklings such as you, and I shall be quite willing to rid it of one!"

The noble youth's hand grasped tighter on the blades hilt, moving forward to draw and strike in one movement. The blade didn't even make it completely out of its sheath, however, as the servant/king swiftly stopped the movement with one hand, already being in range to do so thanks to Algus' foolishness, while the other slammed forward into the Noble's windpipe. As the blonde released his grip on the blade, eyes bulging and gasping for breath, the redhead pulled the sword free while delivering a knee to the off-guard man's stomach.

Algus fell to his knees, clutching his throat and stomach, as Delita looked down on him with a cruel smirk at seeing such a hated person helpless before him. "I never could stand that prattling of yours. Like the incessant baying of sheep, thinking itself a wolf. You might wear a wolfs clothing, but you are far from one."

The downed man glared, and managed to choke out a single shout of "Guards!" as he struggled to his feet and backed away as several armed men rushed into the room and separated the two. Delita took a step back in surprise, frowning in annoyance. He had forgotten, for a moment, that Algus had a group at his beck and call - The entire guard force of house Sadalfas if need be. Cursing silently, he lifted his stolen sword in preparation for defending himself should the guards attack.

Algus meanwhile had managed to regain his composure, somewhat, and shouted a furious order. "Disarm him, beat him if you must, but leave him alive - So that I might have the pleasure of breaking his spirit before extinguishing his pathetic, traitorous life."

The guards rushed towards him, shields ready for whatever Delita would do. There was was only one attack that came to mind. Swinging his sword towards the group, Delita attempted to gather the holy magic he believed he had.

"Stasis Sword!" The man yelled, fully expecting to see the Holy Ice descend upon his foes and stop them mid run. Unfortunately, the soldiers kept running towards him, not even reacting to his yell. If his holy knight magic didn't work, this fight would be much harder than he had first expected. They were almost upon him, and the only option left was to strike. However, upon trying to lift it to strike, he realized it was far heavier than he remembered swords being.

"Shit!" he yelled, jumping back. There was no way he was going to be able to attack with such a heavy sword. If this world wasn't real, then why was he such a weakling? With only one option left, Delita ran towards the servants' quarters. While he hated the fact that he had to leave without giving Algus his just deserves, he knew that he didn't possess the strength he once did.

The guards chased after him, leaving their blond leader behind, still gasping for breath. Algus smirked despite the pain he was in. That servant would die, it was only a matter of time until his guards caught him. He was only a servant after all, what would he be able to do?

"In the mean time, I think I'll pay his 'Dead' sister a visit."

(-)

A brown haired youth eyed the woman before him, the expression on his face an unnerving mixture of apathy and dominating superiority, as he admired the woman's form with casual blatancy. Had the man seen this scene from an outward perspective, he likely would have rightly noted the sheer self-importance that seemed to emanate from the male, but his inward focus prevented such. Instead, he was idly wondering what he should do with this newest opportunity that had occurred to him. As a man of greater quality than others, thanks to his mental strength of the genius level, it was only natural that he should be allowed certain accommodations

Why it had not worked in the past was of little note to him, having put such unpleasantness behind him and whole-heartedly his new, rightful station in life. His genius was rewarded, and so he felt it was only fair that he indulge in that reward when the fancy struck. His object of attention now was the woman he was gazing at, and he felt a desire to exert his greatness over her. With a small smirk, he spoke in a haughty tone.

"Dear Ovelia, you truly are a beautiful rose amongst a rabble of mundanity."

The woman blushed out of an embarrassed glee from the compliment. "Thank you, Prince Mewt. You flatter me."

"Flatter? I merely state the true and obvious." Mewt practically dismissed the response with a metaphorical wave of his hand, before leaning in close to Ovelia's face. "As such a fair rose, I believe it only right that you should be plucked by a great man. And, who greater, than myself?"

"If you say so, Prince Mewt," the lady called Ovelia turned her head away, not entirely confident with the compliment. She could hardly believe that she was engaged to such a great man. All she could do was blush to his praises, and there was nothing she could do for the prince. She truly didn't deserve his love, but she would be damned if she didn't return it.

"You know very well that my word is truth, my dear Ovelia." The prince's smirk turned mischievous, and he inched closer, drawing the woman into his embrace. His smile grew even wider upon hearing her contented sigh as she melted into his hug. Finally...finally he would be able to grant one of those wishes that he had for the longest time. His hand moved cautiously up her body until it pressed against an area that was usually reserved for those who had exchanged their marital vows. In an instant his hand was slapped away, and he found himself growing as he looked at Ovelia's hurt face.

"I'm sorry Prince Mewt, but I cannot allow that until we are married," Ovelia stated seriously. Mewt watched as Ovelia left the room all too quickly, his frown growing longer as he got angrier. He was Prince! This was his kingdom, and yet he was still denied that which he had been yearning for for years. They were to be wed soon, so why could she not let him find some enjoyment.

"Bitch," he muttered, raising his head in a superior-like fashion He would just have to speak to mother about this. Truly she would understand his desires and have a word with Ovelia about her duties as his soon-to-be-wife. Yes, that is what he would do. With his mind made up, he also left the room and headed to the throne room to have a few words with his wonderful mother.

(-)

Delita breathed heavily as he continued to run through the dense forest, not caring at all that the soldiers chasing him had given up not long after he had entered the forest. He wasn't even able to prepare for leaving the city like he had originally planned. Finally, after many instances of looking behind him to see if he was still being followed, he decided it was time he stopped and rested. Despite the training he knew his body had gone through, it had retained none of it when his world was flipped completely upside-down on him.

"Damn that Algus," he cursed, panting for breath while leaning over. The redheaded youth hated that he was no longer in shape, and he was going to make a point of fixing the issue later. First he needed to find a city so he could find a more wieldy weapon, seeing as this one was far too heavy for a person whose only role in this wacky world was being a servant.

However, his thoughts were pushed aside when he heard the screams of terror that seemed to originate from a woman in the distance. His eyes narrowed as he placed the direction the scream seemed to have come from, and briefly weighed the possible outcomes should he investigate. In his unfortunately pitiful state, it was unlikely he could handle much head-on... But in a place such as this, away from the city, it was likely the only danger was petty bandits or a monster - And it would be a cold, cold day in hell before he ran away from something as weak as that.

Straightening up, Delita set off after the scream, another scream helpfully sounding out a few moments later to help him track down the source. Rather than sprint, and get himself out of breath again and likely run headlong into things in the process, he moved at a careful, quick pace so at to be able to assess the situation once he came upon it.

It was not long after that he came into view of a slightly odd sight. At a glance it wasn't too strange, not even for back home. A young woman, with the oddest blue hair, was frantically fleeing from what appeared to be some sort of undead person. The odd part, however, was that the woman stopped to throw something at the undead creature, which would take the object face-first and seem to be about to fall over - At which point the woman got a confident look and seem sure of victory - only for the animated corpse to regain its balance in a disturbingly flexible manner and shamble after her again.

Delita would have laughed at the quickly vanishing confidence that the blue-haired woman had shown over so small a attempt, but he was not one to take much amusement in things - Not to say he never laughed, just that doing so was a rare occasion. Seeing how pathetic the undead being was, and finding it even more pathetic that the woman seemed unable to flee from it entirely or just kill the thing for good, the red-haired man stalked forward quickly, placing himself behind the zombie, and readied his sword as he swiftly approached. A quick stab should do it, and he had the strength to manage such even with this heavy sword he had taken possession of.

Using all the strength he could muster with his unfortunately weak body, and twisting his body for extra momentum, he swung his sword horizontally across the undead's abdomen. He watched as the sword cleaved through the dead skin, only to stop halfway through the body. Frowning, the man-who-claimed-to-be-king pulled his sword out of the living impaired body, reading for another attack with the heavy mythril sword. Why did his body have to be [i]this[/i] pathetic? Couldn't he be allowed to kill an undead being of this level with one hit?

Unfortunately, the zombie was faster than he had originally thought, and had turned around ready to lunge at him before his sword was ready to strike again.

"Shit," he cursed, bringing his sword up as quickly as he could to block the decomposing claws of the undead monstrosity. There was no reason this thing should be giving him such a problem. It should have died already! He growled angrily, before letting out a yell of desperation. He didn't even notice his sword beginning to glow eerily as he felt himself get stronger, realizing that the sword was not as heavy as it was before. He pushed the zombie back, before ripping into it with a flurry of slashes and thrusts, cutting one of it's arms off in the process. In one final attack he finished the zombie off, thrusting the mythril sword through its head. He watched as the body seemed to lose all support and fell to the ground in a bundle of dark skin and bones.

"Jeez, that took far more effort than it should have," Delita mumbled, shifting the sword in his hand to a more comfortable position. It was heavy again, which confused him greatly. Why had he been able to pull off that stunt with his pathetic strength. He shook his head, deciding it was best to ignore it for now. Now that that monster was dealt with, it was best to figure out where the heck he would go from here. Probably the nearest bar to get some information. With that in mind, he started heading in the direction of the next nearest town. He would have thanked the gods for giving him enough knowledge of this world to know where the next city over was from Cyril, but he was sure those gods didn't exist anymore.

Ritz blinked at the red headed man that had come out of nowhere, and torn her boyfriend-turned-zombie apart. While he was a jerk sometimes - Most of the time - she hadn't ever wanted him to die or anything like that. So seeing him, even if it was a zombie-him, get ripped to pieces in a few short seconds was naturally unnerving.

"Y-you killed him!" The blue headed girl yelled, losing her fear after the first word as she went into full-on scolding mode - Being the student body president, and even back when she was just a class head, had gotten her used to scolding people. Of course, she was forgetting that he had just saved her from a zombie that was trying to kill her, but that didn't change that she'd just seen a person get sliced to bits with a sword. "What the hell is wrong with you! Who goes around stabbing people with a sword? And who even has a sword, anyways?"

Delita frowned as the woman he had saved started yelling at him. Could nothing go the way he expected it to in this world? Honestly, who yells at someone for saving them? Irritated and not in any mood to put up with the blue headed girls continued ranting, he rubbed the side of his head to ease his forming headache while snapping at her. "Is that anyway for someone to thank their savior? Mayhaps I should have left you to be eaten by that creature, then?"

Ritz opened her mouth and got an indignant look on her face, but thought better of what she was about to say and changed tracks with a huff. "Hmph. Fine, thank you... Umm... Where is this, anyway? I can't think of anywhere near Ivalice that looks like this."

Delita clucked his tongue, not sure what to make of the situation. Apparently he had found himself face to face with someone who knew nothing about this joke of a world, and his world. He wasn't far from doubting it at this point. After having two different lives stuffed into his head, he wasn't going to be doubting anything that seemed far too out of place. "You're in Nubswood, if that helps you any. Now if you excuse me, I have something that I need to do."

"Don't you dare!" He heard the girl yell, and stopped midstep before sighing. Just great, a girl that didn't know when to give up. "First you kill someone with something as mundane as a sword, and then you plan on leaving an innocent girl lost in unfamiliar woods? How inconsiderate can you be?"

"Plenty, I'm not required to help you. I have things that are far more important than dealing with weaklings like you." Delita continued to walk in the direction he believed the next town was, ignoring the mumbling of the girl. He was having enough problems as it was, all in one day, and wasting any more time was not on his list. At least things couldn't get any worse.

"Fine, then I'm just going to follow you! Hmph!" The navy-haired girl said, before running to catch up with him. There was only one thing that went through his mind at that point.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF...

(-)

The large wooden door slammed open, the noise attracting the attention of all the patrons of the bar, most of them members of the sentient lizard race known as Bangaa. Soon two very peculiar humans could be seen, bickering as if they were a married couple. Shrugging it off as a normal occurrence, the patrons went back to their drinks and conversations. They didn't even pay attention to what they couple was yelling about, not that they would care. There were some loopy people out there.

"I'm telling you, this world isn't real! It can't be! Ivalice is a city, not a country!" The woman yelled, pretty much demanding that the male take her opinion.

"Are you trying to say I'm not real then? Because if I wasn't, you'd be dead now, eaten by the undead creature way back in those woods. Stop bothering me with your nonsense." The man waved her off, not even giving her consideration. He sat down on the stool in front of the bar, glancing around the room, noting that there was quite the array of races here. From his understanding, mostly all of the races besides humes should still be keeping to themselves in their own little countries. What were they doing in Ivalice all of a sudden? It didn't help him that his self of this world didn't know much about them either. A servant's ignorance was quite the curse.

"This...that's different. This world can't exist! I-I must be dreaming..." The girl trailed off, grabbing her head as if it would fall off at any second.

"You just keep telling yourself that, princess," the redheaded male scoffed, grinning slightly. It was oddly amusing to see this girl break herself. It wasn't the first time this trip that she did this too.

"You want something sir?" The hume bartender asked, drying the inside of a glass with a towel. Delita smirked, taking out some of the gil from his small stockpile. Servants of the Sadalfas family got paid almost nothing, but at least they were actually paid. He'd be lucky to be able to buy any weapons after this.

"Yeah, give me your cheapest Ale." He said, slamming the ten gil coin on the table. He really needed this, and then tomorrow he'd start on taking over the kingdom. Again.

"Alcohol? You're drinking alcohol at a time like this? Are you mad?" the navy-haired girl questioned. He turned his head to acknowledge his companion again. If one could say they were companions.

"Could you be quiet for one moment? You are not the only one with a crisis. I have many...MANY things that I need to do, and your incessant blabber isn't helping." He state, turning back to the bartender as he was served a nice glass of ale. He was so going to enjoy this drink of the gods.

"What would you know about it? I don't know what is-" She suddenly cut off as she was pulled by the collar of her shirt, finding herself face to face with a very angry face.

"Just because you are a woman does not mean I will not kill you. Believe me." The glare he gave her as he let go was enough of a sign for her to keep her thoughts to herself. The bartender eyed the pair warily, before sighing, not exactly wanting to get involved with the pair at all anymore.

"Anything else you need?" He asked, as it was his job to serve.

"Yes, I need some information."

"What kind of information?"

"Nothing much, just wondering what the Royal Family has been up to. I like to keep track of things." Delita asked in a casual manner.

"Ah, lots of folks like to keep track of those kinds of things." The man nodded. "Plenty of gossipers come through these parts, spreading the news around."

The bartender paused to set down the finished glass before picking up a new one. "Latest thing I heard would be... the Prince's engagement. Young Mewt is being married to... Olivia? Ovelia? It was one of those. A fine lass, I hear."

Delita tensed at hearing the name of the apparent princess-to-be, his gaze hardening ever so slightly. It was entirely possible it was a coincidence, or the name WAS Olivia, but he didn't believe that. Not with how this world seemed to love jerking him around. While the red haired man was busy not killing something, Ritz had perked up at the name of the prince and was currently trying to give word to her thoughts.

"W-what? Mewt?" The blue headed girl managed to say, her memories drifting back to that odd little kid that used to get picked on all the time. He also turned out to be a Einstein or something, because he ended up the smartest kid in school... Something that still grated on her nerves whenever she happened to think about it. Thoughts of Mewt, however, led back to other memories involving times several years past - And she suddenly realized where she had seen some of the things in this odd little world before. "No way! He did this? That's... impossible!"

"Could you please shut up when I tell you to?" Delita spoke through his teeth, his anger and annoyance mixing together into a twitching urge to hurt something. However, his own focus was derailed as exactly what she said dawned on him. With one swift movement, he grabbed the blue haired woman and pulled her close before hissing out. "You will tell me more of this... Mewt, and whatever it is he did. Later, alone, but you will."

"Ouch, hey, don't grab me like that, jerk!" Ritz complained, shoving his grip off her and rubbing her probably bruised shoulder, before turning her nose up at him with another of her practically patented huffs. "I don't see why I should. You've been nothing but an ass since I met you."

Turning back to face the bartender, he tried to just ignore his recent act and pretend it hadn't happened - The bartender more than happy to do the same. Taking a drink of his ale, Delita briefly mentally cursed at the slightly off taste - Not really tasting much like Ale at all - before addressing the bartender once more. "I'd like to know something else. Do you happen to know of some easy ways to make money?"

"Well, lately groups of people have been forming clans in order to complete problematic jobs that the judges and royal army don't have the time to deal with. Most pay well enough, but it depends on the difficulty of the task." The Bartender said before pointing the board behind him, covered with parchment.

"Those are all the quests I have available. Quite a few I might say, since I haven't had any active clans come in." He said, stroking his goatee.

"I see, thank you" Delita said, glancing over at his _companion_ before looking at the man again. "Is there a room open?"

"Yes, there is. I assume this is for the both of you?" The hume questioned, not really caring if it was or not. If not, it was more of a profit for him.

"Yes. How much is it?"

"One hundred gil," the bartender grinned as the money was placed down on the counter, before he fished a key off of the wall that was covered with room keys. "Thank you very much. Enjoy your stay."

With a nod, Delita snatched the key out of the man's hand, grabbing Ritz's wrist with his other hand, and headed up the stairs to their room. He was lucky the woman didn't complain this time.

(-)

The navy-haired girl, known as Ritz by very few people in this world looked into the small room from the hallway, rubbing her wrist where the man had roughly grabbed her. Didn't chivalry exist in this universe? Even Lyle was much better than this guy, but that was only because he did just about everything he asked him to. This guy seemed ignore her completely, except when it benefited him.

The room that she stood outside of looked really small, containing one bed, and little walking space. Though, the bed looked as though it could fit three people on it, and looked fairly comfortable with those wool blankets...and was that a feather stuffed pillow? No one uses those anymore.

Suddenly Ritz squealed, finding that Delita had once again grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room, slamming the door shut behind them. Suddenly she felt frightened again, noting their situation. Here she was, alone with a guy in a room with one bed, and the redheaded male was between her and her only exit. It didn't help that he glared at her with some type of determination.

"N-no! You can't!" She said, flinching as he stepped forward, reaching his hands towards her. Before she could even thing of moving away, those hands had latched onto her shoulders, pulling her closer to him, until she was staring right into his eyes fearfully.

"You will tell me all you know about this 'Mewt'!" He demanded, finding that her fear in him would only help in his goal. Unfortunately, her fear had completely disappeared the moment he had made his demand, and was replaced with a confident smirk. That was not a good sign, and it only served to irritated him more.

"Oh? I will, will I?" Ritz replied flippantly, her stance no longer being one of fear and now one of haughty confidence. "I don't have to tell you anything, and dragging me around like that isn't the way to convince me otherwise, either. Don't mistake me for some weak-willed little kid, either, I'm not telling you a damn thing unless there's something in it for me."

Delita growled for a moment, anger flashing across his face, and for a moment he considered taking more... painful methods, but thought better of it. Reluctantly, he released the blue headed woman and responded gruffly. "Fine, what is it you want in exchange for this information?"

Ritz made a show of tapping a finger on her chin, before responding a moment later. "What I want... Is for you to take me along with you. This is no place for a lady such as myself to be wandering around alone, where who knows what could pop up. In exchange for being my bodyguard, I'll tell you all about Mewt."

The red haired man frowned at that. He had no desire to have her following him around... However, she definitely knew something of what had happened... He could always just ditch her anyways, couldn't he? He had no reason to keep such a unreasonable promise. "Fine, you can tag along IF you tell me about this Mewt and IF it proves to be useful information."

"Of course it's useful." The girl huffed, crossing her arms. "I wouldn't be bargaining with you if it wasn't, would I?"

Several moments passed, Delita pointedly staring at his short-time companion, before he sighed and spoke up. "Well? Out with it!"

Unhurried, Ritz idly polished her fingernails on her clothing, before speaking. "Well, I haven't really known him that well or long, so what I know is pretty limited. He's quiet and kind of a dork, but he's apparently really smart. Anyways, you probably don't care about that."

Delita's narrowed glare indicated that he did not care about it, and Ritz smirked at the small irritations she was able to inflict on the man so easily. That's what he got for being rough with her.

"Like I was saying, I didn't know him for very long but I recall something that probably has to do with this weird world. A couple years ago, Mewt showed me and a few others this book he had come across. It was a weird fantasy book of some kind, I guess, but it was written in Latin. We couldn't really read it, but Mewt was almost able to say an entire line. Anyways, I think the book had something to do with it because of the pictures - Those lizard things were in it - so that means we're in the book somehow. I wouldn't believe something that stupid normally, but things seem to add up that way... Mewt being a prince, and he was the one with the book. The only thing I don't understand is why it didn't do it when he read it and instead happened years later..." Ritz trailed off, wrapping up her brief explanation.

Delita frowned more, not at all pleased. He hadn't gotten nearly what he had wanted, just some half-baked theory. Still, magic was very real - He had enough experiences with it to keep an open mind about its abilities - so it wasn't too hard a story to buy. That meant this world was some kind of illusion crafted by Mewt, using the book's magic. Of course, this idea could be entirely wrong... But he had nothing else to go on at the moment.

"So what's your story? You seem quite different to be a native of this world." Ritz commented, hoping now that she pretty much shared her side of things, he would share his. Not much luck on that end, not that she was surprised.

"That's none of your business. Now it would be best if we got some sleep, we'll have some work to do in order to prepare." Delita stated, moving towards the bed.

"Hey! It's only right that you should sleep on the floor, leaving the bed to a poor girl like myself." Ritz said, placing a hand over her chest in indication. The man only stopped briefly to glare at her, before continuing with what he was doing.

"Look, I paid for the room, I don't have the money to pay for two rooms and buy us functioning weapons in the morning, and I'm not going to sleep on the floor. So either you enjoy the floor, or you use the other side of this bed. I'll allow you that much." He said, placing his sword in the corner of the room, still irritated that it was too heavy. He had a lot of work cut out for him, and this woman wasn't helping him calm down any either.

"H-How..." Ritz trailed off, finding that anymore arguing wasn't worth the effort. She couldn't demand anything from this man unless she had something to trade, and she was out of information. "Fine."

With that said, both were silent for the rest of the night, and prepared themselves for another day in the world that was not their own. Sleep was a welcome distraction from the stress that the day had caused.

(-)

"When's our buyer coming, boss?" A soldier in red garb asked in a bored tone, tossing a rock into the air before catching it. They had been waiting on this stupid hill for a few hours, hiding from those that passed through the mountain path. Their buyer had yet to make an effort to show up to buy the product from them.

"He'll get here when he gets here. You need to be more patient." His boss stated, a hume thief Standing from his position high above the pass, he could see all the travelers that went by, ever suspicious of possible threats. It was then that he heard a strange voice complaining from below.

"I can't believe this world. Stealing a thesis of all things...Is everyone really that well off that the only thing you can steal is ideas?" The leader smirked as he watched the man look around, noting he only had one companion. Was this all that old bag could send after his group? Two young upstarts? They should know better.

"Up and at'em boys. We've got company," he said, smirking as he drew his dagger. This would be a quick battle. Once all his men were in position on the mountain side, he called down to the pair that was apparently searching for him and his crew.

"Hey! Do you young'ns need something?" He called down from the cliff edge, smiling like he had just caught tonight's dinner. He'd rob these guys of all they had once they were unconscious It's funny how those judges couldn't do anything once the battle ended.

Delita looked up, cutting himself off mid-sentence to locate the unexpected voice. His eyes narrowed as he noted the dress of the man, and the not exactly pleasant look he was wearing. Stopping in his tracks, he sighed in annoyance when Ritz blatantly responded to the man with the stupidest possible response he could imagine.

"Hey, are you one of those morons that stole a thesis?"

"Subtle." The red haired man muttered under his breath before preparing himself encase they were attacked - Which they very likely would be. The man up on the cliff paused, face turning into an expression of anger, before responding with an irritated shout.

"Who's a moron!" The thief leader barked. "This thesis is going to get us a nice reward!"

Ritz grinned, drawing her new short sword. She didn't really intend to use it at this point, but thought it would be effective for intimidating the lone thief. "Well, hand it over and we won't have to beat you up first."

Delita rubbed his forehead with his free hand, feeling completely annoyed by his companion's stupidity. Naiveté was more close to the truth, and probably inexperience with such situations, but it wasn't a good thing either way. Hissing at her as he readied his own sword, he didn't take his eyes off the thief for a moment. "You idiot... If he's even remotely smarter than you are, he wouldn't be up here by himself. Didn't you notice he said "us" earlier? It would have been better to not give away who we are and why we're here..."

Ritz had the decency to look mildly abashed, but only for a moment, before huffing. "Well, whatever. Let's just take the thesis so we can get paid."

"Hah! As if." The thief yelled, having overheard the last comment. "We'll be the ones taking things around here! Go ahead and show yourselves, boys!" On cue, people started appearing on the sides of the cliff face, obviously hiding in order to ambush their pursuers. Delita growled as he counted them, noting the difference in numbers.

"Four to two," he noted, trying to think up a sound strategy. At least they were spread out enough that he wouldn't be overwhelmed all at once. Well, he hoped he wouldn't. The only problem was dealing with that archer, which he could probably leave to his companion while he took out the rest of the group that he would have to go through to get to the leader. The bastard definitely knew his geographical advantages.

"Alright woman, I'm going to head up the left path, while you head up the right path." He stated, unsheathing his mythril sword, ignoring the complaint he got from his companion about having a name. He really didn't care if she had a name. "You should only have to deal with that archer, so it should be simple enough at close range. Just don't get shot."

In a blinding flash of light, a figure appeared to Delita's right. As the dust cleared, the redhead glared at the figure, his irritation blowing straight into a full rage. That man was supposed to be dead, along with his whole family. There was no way he could misplace that face and hairstyle. It was just too odd to see anyone else with it.

Why the hell was Dycedarg here? And why was he riding a chocobo while wearing such heavy armor? It just didn't make any sense.

"Now that both sides are ready, I will now announce the rule of this battle." Dycedarg said, looking briefly at both sides of the battle. His eyebrows rose curiously upon looking at Delita's group, finding it odd for just a team of two to be fighting. Shrugging, he decided it was best to get back to his job. "There will be no Ganging up whatsoever. Now let this battle begin!" Signaling with his hands, accompanied by a whistle, Dycedarg officially started the battle.

Instantly Delita and Ritz split up, heading in their separate directions. Delita smirked as he looked at the two people he would have to go through to get to the boss. A swordsman and a thief shouldn't be too hard right? Even in his pitiful shape, he could still out maneuver any novice, and a thief would not be a problem. He only hoped that his partner would be able to take out that archer before he could be shot unsuspectingly

As he drew close, the swordsman came forward with his own attack, hoping to catch him unprepared. Delita's blade intercepted, and the resulting impact jarred his arms far more than he would have liked. Ignoring that for the moment, he quickly moved his blade against his opponents, pushing it with some effort before directing it down and to the left in a swift half-circle movement. The technique caught the swordsman by surprise, who now found himself all crossed up with his sword arm on the opposite side of his body, when the red headed man finished with a thrust into the swordsman's torso. The blade hit armor, but still caused enough damage to force the man to stagger back.

Delita had little time to follow up on this, as the thief chose his companions exit from the immediate fighting to jump in and slash towards his face with a dagger. The former king barely managed to heft his annoyingly heavy blade into position to block, the dagger glancing off of it harmlessly. Far too sluggishly for his liking, he moved from the block into a sidestepping slash, hopping to take out the lightly if at all armored thief. The other man was faster than he looked, however, and bent himself out of the way before grabbing a hold of Delita's shirt - And in a movement he would never quite understand, managed to take it right off of him.

Filing that away for things to ponder on later, along with where the shirt had vanished too once it had been taken, Delita struck out at the triumphantly smirking thief once more, this time his anger allowing him to ignore the swords weight and move fast enough to force the other to attempt a block with his pathetic dagger. Attempt, because all it took was Delita altering his swing slight to hit the exposed shoulder of the thief and deliver a major injury that sent him straight to the ground.

Sweating more than he should have been for such simple combat, Delita turned just in time to see the swordsman he had injured before ready to strike him with a powerful downward swing. The surprised servant/king moved to get out of the way, all too aware that his body was to slow to actually do so. A whistling sound followed by a thunk distracted him, and the swordsman paused with his sword mere inches from him before slumping ever and falling to the ground in a crumpled heap.

"Hah! Headshot!" He heard someone shout, turning over to see Ritz not far off with a bow in her hands and posed as if having just fired. Delita quirked an eyebrow in her direction, which the navy-haired girl noticed. "What? Just because I'm bad with swords doesn't mean I'm useless! You should have asked!"

Delita shook his head, trying to hide the smile that was forming on his face. Apparently she wasn't as useless as he had previously thought. That was a pretty damn good shot from that distance, he was honestly impressed. "We still have one more to deal with. So don't get cocky." He called back, beginning his trek up the hill. It wouldn't be long until he was able to beat that bastard thief senseless.

"I think you miscounted," A voice said from behind him, along with the familiar sound of a sword being drawn. Spinning around as quickly as he could, he was barely able to block the struck aimed for his neck, his sword at an extremely odd position. Delita growled, angry that he had completely missed someone. He should have known better, especially considering all that he had gone through in the past.

"I guess I did..." He said, pushing against the other sword with all his strength so he could shift his weapon to a more beneficial position. The swords grinded against each other as they strained against the strength forced on them, but Delita was able to prevail in his shift. Before the soldier could react, and in another skillful movement, the former king was able to disarm his opponent by slashing the other man's sword hand with the tip of the mythril sword.

"And now I've fixed my error." Gripping the sword with both hands, he struck against the weaponless man, aiming for his exposed head. The man fell to the rocky ground as he lost his consciousness Now that the last distraction was gone, his final target was in sight. Running as fast as his pitiful legs would take him, he finally made it to the top of the cliff, and found himself watching as his companion launched arrow after arrow at the thief

"I take it back, you're still useless." He commented, brandishing his mythril sword. It was time to end this ridiculous battle. With that, he charged in.

"Hey! I am not useless!" Ritz yelled, stopping her shooting to let Delita take care of the thief. "It's just that he kept blocking my arrows!"

Delita could have cared less about her excuses. This was just one small step towards his ultimate goal, and he was getting real tired of it. As soon as the thief was in range, he slid to a stop, all the while swinging his sword around, using his momentum to his advantage. To his surprise he found the sword blocked by the enemy thief's knife, without any sign of waning under the stress.

"You're pretty weak, you know that?" The thief smiled at his insult, enjoying the look of anger that spread across Delita's face. He was weak a long time ago, so weak that he could only watch as his sister was shot before his eyes. He had promised himself that he would never be weak again. There was no way he was going to let this amateur get away with calling him weak.

"I..." Gripping his sword tightly in his hands, he glared defiantly at the thief that had insulted him. "Am Not..." Pushing harder, he drove the other man's knife back, not paying attention to the fact that his sword started to glow again, just like that other time. His arms began to flow with strength once again, the sword no longer feeling as heavy.

"Weak!" Delita cried, finally pushing the thief's knife away, leaving the man wide open. His arm moved quickly, slashing the man from all directions, before giving one final thrust to the man's chest. Breathing heavily, he pulled the sword out, and watched the man fall to his knees, somehow still retaining his consciousness

A blaring whistle caught his attention, and he watched, confused, as the Chocobo mounted Dycedarg came running towards him.

"Ganging Up law infringement. Punishment: Yellow Card," He said, throwing a yellow piece of paper in Delita's direction. The paper moved rather quickly for being a piece of paper, and had immediately attached to Delita's shirtless torso.

"Gah!" The former king cried in pain. That had hurt like hell. Rubbing at his chest in irritation, even though the pain hadn't really been centered there, he glared at the Judge. Gritting his teeth, he barely restrained himself from attacking the man. This world was an illusion of some kind, and that meant this Dycedarg was another fake like Teta had been. Ignoring the obvious hostility the shirtless man was showing, Dycedarg examined the area before raising a hand.

"Battle Concluded. Victors..." The blonde man stopped, hand still raised, before turning his head slightly in Delita and Ritz's direction. "What Clan do you two belong to?"

"We don't." Delita grunted, eying the Judge warily. Obviously this version of Dycedarg had some sort of power, with those cards. He didn't know what they could do beyond the "Yellow Card" hurting like hell, but he wasn't curious enough to find out if he could help it.

"Hmph. Missions are meant for clans. Taking one while not a part of a clan is forbidden. I would send you to jail, but it unfortunately isn't an official law." The man on the chocobo drawled, before turning his mount around so his back was to them.

"Does that mean that thievery isn't against official law either? What kind of system is this?" Ritz asked after fishing a sheet of parchment out of the thief's robes, holding it up for the judge to see.

Dycedarg's head tilted slightly to indicate he heard, but he made no move to turn to face them again. "A Judge's place is to enforce the law, not question it. I suggest you do not, either."

That said, the Judge and mount vanished just as suddenly and in the same manner as they had appeared. Delita took the opportunity to rummage around for the shirt that thief had taken from him, oddly finding it in a bag. When had the thief had time to do that? Whatever, he hadn't ever figured out how thieves in his world managed to steal some of the things they did, and he doubted he'd figure out how they did it in this world. Maybe it was some kind of Thief-Magic? Actually, the servant/king mused to himself as he looked over the unconscious foes, Dycedarg had all but said thieving was allowed. Nobody would care if he took a few things from these deadbeats anyways.

"Umm... What are you doing?" Ritz blinked as Delita started to remove the armor of one of the soldiers. The man ignored her for several moments until he had put it on himself and picked up the soldiers sword to give it a few test swings.

"What does it look like? These thieves are better equipped than we are. You shouldn't talk anyways. How did you get that bow, after all?" The red head snapped lightly, not really putting much anger in it. "I suggest you loot some better armor yourself."

"Point." The navy-haired girl stated, shrugging as she made her way to the archer she had taken out. It was probably best that she took what she would use. Although, she wouldn't mind if they robbed the thieves of all they had. They deserved it after all.

Finally having found himself fitted with a sword he could actually use effectively, and armor better than the servant's shirt he had started with, Delita finally didn't feel all that pitiful anymore. He still had a long way to go though, and that judge didn't make him feel any more comfortable with this new world.

Glancing towards the setting sun, he frowned as he realized the implications of Dycedarg's existence If Dycedarg was alive, that also probably meant that the entire Beoulve family was alive once more. He growled as he remembered Zalbaag, Dycedarg's younger brother, ordering Algus to shoot his sister. That's one person in this world he would have to kill along with Algus.

But that also meant that Ramza was still alive, and while they were friends in the past, he didn't know how this world would have affected him. He would probably have to go through his former friend to reach his goal. It didn't matter who it was, if they stood in his way, they would be cut down.

"Woman! We're leaving," the former king called, starting to head down the path, not caring if his partner was following.

"Hey, what did I tell you about calling me 'Woman'! I have a name, you know!"

(-)

A/N:

JSB: As you can see, we took some liberties considering FFTA canon, since we needed the heroes of FFTA to be older in order to be problematic for Delita. Delita vs. 12 year old Mewt would barely be a challenge, crybaby that he is.

Xero: We also took a bit of liberty in general to make it work better as a story, but hopefully it comes across in a decent way. A lot of the key elements, such as what the Auracite did to the warped Delita, is pretty much made up bull. We think it works though.


	2. Chapter 2

The Fine Line Between Truth and Dreams.

By Xero and JSB

Disclaimer: The authors of this story do not own FFT or FFTA or the characters contained within. They belong to their creators, and Square-Enix.

Chapter Two.

A wind blew across the green plains, rustling the somewhat overgrown grass. The sound of metal on metal clanged throughout the area, though no passerby's were around to hear it. The source of this disruption of the otherwise peaceful plains was a relatively common occurrence. Several people were locked in the midst of combat, but the majority of one side had already fallen - Leaving a good four versus a measly two. The winning side was a group of thieves, while the losing side was a team sent to retrieve the goods that had been stolen.

Such conflicts, as previously mentioned, were common - The entire Mission and Clan system partially revolved around it. Over on the edge of the battlefield was a mounted man in armor, a Judge, with a none too pleased expression on his face. That expression turned into a grimace as another one of the Clan team members went down, the remaining teaming up on the last. He desperately wished there was something he could do to stop this unfair fight, but he had already set the Law for the battle in the most one-sided manner he could. The thieves had surprised him, however, by being able to work around that and still handedly beat the tar out of their opponents.

As the last of the Clan team fell, the blonde's expression turned into one of disappointment, letting out a sigh. Reluctantly, he raised his hand to announce the victor, the thieves turning to him expectantly. "Battle over... Victor..."

After a moment without the Judge completing his statement, one of the thieves helpfully piped up. "We're part of the Treasure Takers."

"Victory Treasure Takers..." The Judge finished lacklusteredly. It wasn't right that this happened, but he couldn't do anything about it. Not without breaking the rules of course. He grinned slightly as he made his plan. And to think he had just gotten off his last punishment. The things one does for true justice.

The blonde unmounted his chocobo and began walking towards the group of celebrating thieves slowly. It wasn't long before they noticed he was still there, and they all frowned, staring at him.

"Hey, why are you still here? The battle is over judge, go back to where you belong." One of the thieves jeered, pointing at him impolitely. The other thieves seemed to be in agreement, even if they didn't voice it. There was no way he was going to let them go without seeing justice done.

"The battle is over..." The blond man said, raising his hand towards the group. Crimson colored cards began to form in a line in front of the hand, floating in mid air, until five cards were formed. "However, justice shall be done."

"Hey! you can't do that!" Another thief called, standing defiantly. "We won that battle fair and square!" It didn't help that his comrades were all fearfully backing away from the judge. Just their luck, a Rogue Judge.

"Red Card Infringement, Go to jail!" The blond man yelled, watching as all five of the cards sought out their targets, even hitting the one unconscious member of the thieves' group. In five flashes of light, all of the thieves disappeared. Jail is where scum like them belonged anyway. With justice served, the judge made his way back to his chocobo, and mounted it. Raising his arm, he also disappeared in a flash of light, leaving behind the unconscious members of the defeated clan.

(-)

The wooden door burst open, the sound of the door hitting the wall beside it echoed through the large hallway. A blonde man entered through the opened door, a grim expression adorning his face. He shut the door behind him in the same fashion he had opened it, and stormed through the hallway, boots beating against the polished stone floor. This day was only going to get worse for him, and he knew it. It was only a matter of time until his family got news of his actions, which would result in another punishment.

"Brother Ramza!" A soft voice called to him, and he shook his head to rid himself of his anger. Standing next to the doorway to the inner part of the castle was his sister, the owner of the voice, wearing one of her normal dresses. There was no way he could ever appear angry to his younger sister. Not that he would be able to hide his stunt from her either. He quickly made his way over to her, a soft smile forming on his face.

"Alma," The blonde man acknowledged, tilting his head towards her, before continuing through the door way. His sister followed, a frown adorning her face as she continued to look up at him.

"How was becoming a judge again brother?" She asked, curiously. Damn, and he was so sure he would be able to get past today without getting in this discussion.

"The same as usual." Ramza continued to smile, trying to keep his bluff up. He would only worry her more if she knew he kept getting in trouble with the judges, and that was something he wanted to avoid, if possible.

"The usual? You mean you sent the battle winners to jail again, didn't you?" She asked, watching as his smile broke into pieces, replaced completely by a frown. He turned to her, looking her dead in the eyes, and sighed.

"They were thieves that had stolen something or other, and the clan that came to retrieve what was stolen was defeated so easily." The blond man stated, feeling frustrated. "I couldn't let them get away with that injustice. It didn't sit well with me, and so I red carded the entire group." His sister nodded in understanding.

"And then your superiors gave you another lecture when you got back to the council, correct?" She theorized, earning a nod from her older brother. "Well, it isn't like this is the first time this happens. But to have it happen so soon as your last dismissal was lifted, what were you thinking?"

Ramza could only drop his head at the remark. At this rate, he would never be able to do what he believed he needed to.

"Of course," Alma continued, grinning widely, "I probably would have done the same, had I been in your place."

Ramza chuckled at that, his spirits lifted by the remark. That wouldn't last, however, as the sound of approaching footsteps drew both of the siblings attention to the door Ramza had just come through a minute ago. There stood another man with blonde hair, a trait their entire family shared, bearing a frown on his face.

"Ah... Hello, Zalbaag." Alma greeted, knowing what was coming and not really wishing for it to happen. She hated it when Ramza got punished...

"Hello, Alma." The man nodded in her direction briefly, before returning his gaze back to Ramza. He seemed to be contemplating how to start, before giving a light sigh. "I assume we can skip the beating around the bush? You broke the rules again, Ramza."

"I know." The other man nodded. "But I don't regret it."

The older brother nodded again, doing so before the younger brother had even finished speaking. It was more or less the same response that was always given. "Then, you are prepared to accept the consequences of your actions?"

Ramza inwardly sighed, not looking forward to it at all. No matter how proud he was of his actions and not conforming to the rules of Judgehood, punishment was still an unpleasant experience. Straightening up, he offered another comment regardless of if it would affect his brother at all. "What good are judges if they cannot bring justice?"

His brother nodded once again, understanding that it was the same as all the other times. He rose his hand up, a green card appearing to form in his hand. "Ramza, the Beoulve family has been a family of Judges for generations, respecting and upholding the laws that the order set up. We are only allowed to uphold those laws. If we break those laws, what will the citizenry think?"

He paused, bringing his hand down, and pointed the card at his brother. Despite his serious face, he was not happy about having to punish his brother once again.

"Judge Law Infringement: Green Card, Judgement Revoked," Zalbaag stated, not even needing to watch as the card flew out of his hand to Ramza, moving straight through the younger man's armor. Ramza stiffened as the card attached itself to his skin, trying to will away the pain of the card. Alma had latched onto one of Ramza's arms in hopes that her presence might be able to ease some of the pain. When he saw that the pain seemed to subside, Zalbaag spoke again.

"Father would like to speak with you Ramza, probably regarding this matter of you continuously breaking the rules. Be sure to not keep him waiting." He said, hiding all emotion, before leaving the two siblings.

Ramza turned once more to his sister, forcing a smile despite the lingering pain of the card. "Thanks Alma, it's good to know that at least one person thinks I did the right thing." With that said, he made his way towards the stairs, which would lead him to his father.

(-)

Ramza shut the door to his room, sighing lightly over the conflicts of the day. Familiar conflicts, but frustrating ones nonetheless. He sat down on the edge of his bed and started to reflect on the day's events. Whenever something happened, he would think over it to try and figure out if his part had been the right one. While he had broken the laws, he still always came up with his doing being the correct thing at the end of the day. Why he got punished for it, he had never understood beyond it being a law. A useless law, or at least a misused one. It would make sense to have laws against biased judges, but using them against him for sending criminals to jail?

At least, the blonde thought, he had his father's subtle approval. The man, nearly the highest level of Judge one could be, would always make sure what his son had done had been for the right reasons, and then give him a subtle encouragement. Nothing dramatic, but it made him feel better knowing that someone of his father's level in the system shared his ideals - Even if he never heard of him acting on them. Alma also agreed with him, and little parts of him thought Zalbaag might secretly do so as well. His other brother, Dycedarg, he had no idea what thought of it. Knowing him, he probably didn't let it concern him much either way.

Feeling a bit better after reflecting on it in a calm manner, instead of the anger-ridden thoughts he had earlier, Ramza decided he would write down some notes on the battle he witnessed that day and made his way over to his messy desk. He sifted through the pieces of parchment, until he was able to find one that was mostly untouched, and placed it on top of the mess. He found his quill on the edge of the desk, and frowned slightly as he realized all too late that his ink bottle was out of ink. Hoping he had an extra bottle in one of his desk drawers, he opened one of them, scanning the contents in it. What caught his eye was not a bottle of ink, but a leather pouch he had no recollection of putting in his desk drawer. He never put bags in his drawers, simply because it would only add one more step to finding what he wanted, so this was odd to him.

He pulled out the bag, untying the string around it, and poured its contents onto the desk. The blonde blinked, finding the items now scattered on top of the pile of parchments peculiar. He grabbed the closest item, a grass whistle, remembering the last time he had used one. Could this bag be filled with stuff from his childhood?

He placed the grass reed whistle down, his hand drifting over the next item, before picking it up to examine it. It was a rather plain band that was made of silver. He couldn't remember having a reason to get a ring. Placing that back down on the desk, he reached for the last item, a strange white gem with a crescent-like shape. As his hand touched it, a bright flash of light from the stone engulfed his vision.

Images filled his mind, as if viewing fragmented scenes of something, that he strangely knew the meanings and context behind. Several particular images stood out, one of his sister Alma. The others were people he didn't know, but somehow did, including a man with red hair that drew out strong feelings of camaraderie towards him. However, the images turned darker, showing him various demons locked in combat with someone he seemed to be viewing from the perspective of. When had he ever fought demons?

This continued for what seemed a lifetime, but in reality took an infinitely smaller amount of time, until he found himself back at his desk, in his room, with a headache from all the knowledge that had been dumped into his head. Absently, he pocketed the stone as he tried to think clearly, shaking his head in an attempt to sort things out. Memories were clashing, and he could not tell which set was true and which set was the dream. Looking down, however, at the two objects still on his desk brought to mind two distinct memories. The whistle, sent him back to his childhood - Only not, it was that other set of memories childhood - with a younger version of that red headed man and him being taught how to make grass whistles by his father.

The second memory, however, sent him into a state of shock for a moment. The ring... It was from his wedding... With Alma. He had married his own sister? Certainly he was fond of her, but he didn't think it enough to get romantically involved. The new - or old, he couldn't tell - memories however, magnified that fondness, until he found that it was not quite so an absurd notion. It still clashed with his... Judge-Self, he decided to call that version of him, but the... Heretic? Hero? Both seemed to apply to that other version of him. Regardless, that self seemed to have embraced the idea. The other Alma and Ramza had been through a lot, his memory told him, so he could see how it ended up that way.

Ramza shook his head again. He couldn't tell what was real or not. The new memories felt too fantastic and magical to be real, things like that adventure just didn't happen, but they also felt... Correct. He flipped the ring around in his fingers as if through habit, before sighing and placing it back on the desk.

"I'll deal with this in the morning," he said to himself, before heading towards his bed. Thinking more would only increase the headache he had just received. He'd probably be in better shape tomorrow. He did have plenty of time to think about it, now that his ability to judge was revoked.

(-)

A group of warriors walked along the mountain path, filled with determination. A blond man led the group of orange skinned, lizard like humanoids, known to Ivalice as Bangaa, to their destination, not really worried about what his job was. He looked up at the cliff face beside the main pass road, feeling that would probably one of the best hiding spots for a group of thieves.

"This is Lutia Pass...right Lunias?" he asked his partner, co-leader of the newly formed Ivalice Snowmen clan.

"Yessss, it isssss, Marche" The Bangaa white monk answered, following the blonde's gaze towards the cliff face.

"I would sssssay that cliff would be the best ambussssshh spot for a group of thievessss in hiding." Another Bangaa said from behind the two leaders.

"Thanks for the tip Euver, we should probably head that way then," the blonde finished, walking towards the cliff, finding it odd that there were bodies strewn along the ground.

"Did sssssssome clan beat ussss here?" Lunias asked, glancing at the group of unconscious humes on the path on the side of the cliff.

"They do match the description the Inn gave us." Marche sighed, rubbing the back of his head as a look of annoyance formed across his features. "It looks like we came here for nothing."

"Indeed," his partner said, nodding his head solemnly as he crossed his arms. However, he formed a smile before speaking again. "You could alwaysssss teach usss more of thisss 'Hockey' you sssspoke of before. It issss an intriguing game."

Marche Radiuju shook his head, chuckling all the while. He was really glad that he had decided to not back down after insulting the pair of Bangaa when they had first met. Because of that brawl, they had become impressed with each other's strength. Afterwards Lunias had invited him to start a clan together, for some reason or another. Having just appeared in a world he knew nothing about, he had agreed immediately.

"Well, if you insssssisssst," the blonde said, avoiding the punch that would have hit him in the face.

"Insssssulting ussss again? Why you!" Despite the intentions of the words, the smile the Bangaa monk had told him it was all in good fun.

(-)

Ramza's eyes fluttered a few times as he woke up, his vision blurring for several moments before he fully returned to the world of the awake. Brushing some messed up strands of hair out of his eyes, the blonde sat up in the bed, sheets falling from his chest down to his lap. Pulling the sheets up, he swung his feet out to the side of the bed, letting out a yawn before he pushed himself up off the bed and onto his feet. Scratching his bare chest, the penalized judge blinked as he noted the lack of something. His gaze moved downward, eying his unmarked chest with confusion. Where was the Judge Card that he'd been hit with? Frowning, he tried to think of when it had disappeared, but had no memory of it. The events of the night before had distracted him completely, so he hadn't noticed if it was there or not...

Speaking of which, his decision to sleep on it had been a good one - He no longer had a headache and felt much more together, rather than like a fragmented person. Apparently his mind had sorted everything out while he slept, though he still couldn't be sure which set of memories was true. Regardless, he had plenty of time to think on the matter later. For now, he needed to get dressed and go down to breakfast with the others. His father was insistent on the family spending what time together that they could, and Ramza enjoyed that as well. He hardly saw Dycedarg or Zalbaag otherwise. A frown adorned his face as that other set of memories told him all three of those men were supposed to be dead, and he was put into an even sourer mood on realizing Dycedarg had betrayed them all.

Not this one, that other one... He really wished to believe that this Dycedarg was different, and would try not to associate the two versions if he could help it. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he quickly dressed himself before heading out of his room. It was a short trek from his room to the dining room, not crossing paths with anyone along the way, and somewhat difficult to keep his thoughts silent. Soon enough, however, he arrived to find his family all seated in their respective positions at the large table. Taking his own seat, briefly glancing down to find the meal of the morning was omelet's with various meats and vegetables mixed in.

Picking up his fork and knife, he began to eat his meal in silence, all the while looking at the members of his family seated at the table. According to his newer memories, everyone one that was here was supposed to be dead, besides his younger sister and himself. It was truly strange to see them alive, yet have the feeling that they should not be of the living. His heart ached at the thought, especially regarding Zalbaag's death. He had always treated him so kindly, even when punishing him, so to think him dead was a terrible thought.

Finally Ramza's eyes stopped as he looked at his sister, finding that his heart practically started to beat faster. He quickly looked away, and went back to feverishly eating his food. This was not good, those memories were wrong, they had to be. Why would he love his own sister in such a way. It was detestable, or least he tried to reason with himself that it was, yet he couldn't get it out of his head.

He couldn't take it anymore. Staying in the same room as all these people, with the memories he had...he just could not stay there any longer without breaking. Without even finishing his meal, he pushed his chair back, and stood up. Nodding to his father, he walked quickly away, leaving the rest his family to stare as he walked off.

"He's probably just upset over his Judge powers being revoked again." Dycedarg stated offhandedly. It was only right that he be punished for breaking the rules. He then went back to discuss some current judge issue with his father.

Alma remained silent as she watched her brother leave, feeling rather concerned. That couldn't be the reason behind these actions. She knew that Ramza had to have a much better reason for acting in such a way.

"Excuse me," Alma said, before she herself stood up as well, and briskly walked out of the room, intent on catching up to Ramza. Something was indeed wrong.

(-)

"Man, I'm still bummed that someone beat us to that Mission..." Marche sighed as he and his Bangaa friends sat around a table in the clan's home base. Euver nodded in agreement, but Lunias waved a clawed hand to dismiss the concerns.

"Bah! Theressss plenty of misssssssssionssss to go around." He commented in the usual Bangaa accent - Mainly being that all "s" sounds were drawn out - and motioned to the food the three had before them. "We'll eat, then try to grab another misssssssssion. The clan can afford to misssssssss a few."

"That's true I guess." Marche nodded, perking up as he put his attention for the first time to the food in front of him since he'd sat down. It was a oversized drumstick, as far as he could tell, and had a reddish color to it. "Huh... Do you guys grow really big chickens or something?"

"What'sssss a chicken?" Euver questioned, after taking a bite of his own oversized drumstick - though his was more of a light yellow-brown color.

Marche blinked, recalling that they probably didn't have the same animals here as his own world, before shrugging. "Er, never mind."

Picking up the drumstick, he took a bite before jerking back slightly in surprise at the taste that met his tongue. It was really spicy, and if he wasn't mistaken, tasted like barbeque sauce had been put all over it. "Hey, is this Spicy Barbeque Sauce? It's really good!"

"Spisssy, yesssss." Lunias nodded, pointing at his own similarly flavored drumstick with one claw. "But I do not know what thisss "burbique sssssausssssse" issss."

"What, seriously? You guys don't have barbeque sauce?" Marche asked blankly, unbelieving that something could taste exactly like it and yet they don't know of it. Of course, it could have been known by a different name, but that didn't occur to the displaced hockey player. "There's no way this tastes naturally like this, whatever it is."

"Red Chocobo tassssstessss like that on itsssss own." Euver shrugged. "Jussssssst like Yellow Chocobo tassssstesss like honey and musssstard ssssaussse."

"Really? That's unnatural." Marche blinked, eying the drumstick. "Wait a second, did you say this is Chocobo? Aren't those like horses for you guys? Aren't they important?"

"What'sss a horssse? Isss it tasssty?" Euver asked, taking another bite.

"Er, I dunno. Never eaten one." Marche blinked, now wondering if a horse was in fact tasty or not.

"Asss for your quesssssstion, Chocobo are ussssed for lotsss of thingssss." Lunias shrugged, having gotten used to Marche's random odd questions and references to things he had never heard of in the short time they had known eachother. "Including food."

"Ah... Well, it tastes good so I guess that makes sense." Marche nodded after a moment, accepting the answer his friend had given. It seemed this world was a lot simpler in its reasoning for things. Like "if it tastes good, why not eat it?" He couldn't really refute that logic either, so he just went along with it and dug into his meal with a final comment. "Still, this place is awesome if it has natural spicy barbeque flavor..."

(-)

Ramza sighed, staring up at the ceiling of his room as he laid on his bed. Since he had been banned from being a judge, he had no reason to leave the mansion. Which left him with the constant potential to come across the people he didn't want to see, especially since he still hadn't figured out what was true and false. His other memories seemed so real, so horrifyingly real that he didn't want to doubt them, and yet his mind kept telling him they were fake. The fact that his brother's were alive proved that they were fake. Which meant that his love for Alma was also fake...right?

He shuddered at the thought. Love did not lie, at least, that's what his father had told him. But what could he do? The blonde man growled to himself, slamming his hand against his bed in irritation. What in this world was wrong with him?

'That's it,' Ramza thought to himself, 'I need some fresh air.' He quickly moved to his door, glancing at his desk for a moment, noting the grass whistle that had been in that bag that had brought his misfortune. Smiling to himself, he grabbed the whistle, along with the ring that was right next to it, before existing the room. He knew exactly what he was going to do, something that he knew would calm him down. He snuck his way through the mansion, fully intent on avoiding everyone he could. Especially those that would trigger an unwanted conversation.

Finally, with much side tracking, he had made his way outside. Glancing at the orange sky, he noted that he had missed supper again, seeing as the sun was just beginning to set. He wasn't in the mood to eat anyway. It would probably be dark by the time he made it to the place he wanted to go, but that wasn't an issue to him.

After making his way out of the city, he finally found himself in a grassy plain, which had two rivers running through it. Giza Plains, the field he spent his childhood running around in, according to his memories of this world. His memories of that other world also had a field very much like this one, where he had spent much of his childhood as well. However, there was one key difference in the memories, now that he thought of it. He did not have that one friend in this world.

"Delita," He muttered, remembering the name of the boy in his memories, and later the man who had made his way to become king. Ramza wondered if the man truly existed now, or if he was just a creation of his imagination. Sighing, the judge sat down on the ground, bring the grass whistle to his lips, and began to play it, as he always had when he needed to calm down, when he needed to think.

He sat there, playing a song he didn't remember learning in this life, in this world, but played it so perfectly, so beautifully that it couldn't have just been made up on the spot. Finally the song came to a stop, and he felt the calmest he had ever been in a long while. Why hadn't he done this before? Why was it that he couldn't remember ever coming to relax in these grassy plains, but could remember many occasions doing the exact same thing he did tonight in his other memories?

His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of grass being crushed, as someone walked towards him, getting closer and closer. He looked up towards the source, mouth dropping in surprise as his sister appeared before him, wearing the same comforting smile she usually did. No...it wasn't the same smile. It was different.

"I see that you came here too, huh?" She said, continuing to smile. He immediately closed his mouth and nodded. Why could he still not talk to her? Could he not accept the fact that she would not love him the same way he found himself loving her? "May I sit down?" Alma asked, getting another nod in response.

The blonde woman took a moment to sit, making sure to adjust her dress accordingly while doing so, before crossing her arms across her knees. Ramza attempted to ignore the emotions from the other-memories, giving Alma a pleasant smile that faltered somewhat. Now that he was confronted with her, he really had no idea what to do. He couldn't even act normally... There was something about that smile that bothered him though. There was something different about it, but he couldn't place it in his flustered state. Coughing as he realized he'd spaced out for a moment there, he turned abruptly to stare at the plains and get his mind off his sister as best he could.

"It's beautiful out here, don't you think?" Alma commented after a moments silence, enjoying the atmosphere.

"Yes..." Ramza nodded, actually taking note of that fact once his sister had pointed it out. It really was a beautiful place, and fairly peaceful. He recalled playing with her in this field when they were younger, though he couldn't tell if most of those memories were from that other life in another field or this one. Probably both.

"I wonder when the last time we both were here was..." The girl mused, tilting her head at him in a cute manner. When had she started doing that, too?

"Not for a long time..." He nodded, closing his eyes. How he wished to tell her... But if she didn't remember, what would he do? He was certain she didn't, she hadn't gave any indication she did... The image of her oddly different smile came to his mind, and he frowned. That was wishful thinking, probably. It was all in his head, just like those fantastically real memories. Sighing, he opened his eyes again and turned to Alma, who was quietly admiring the scenery. She looked... Serene, Beautiful. He opened his mouth to speak, but paused as a glimmer caught his eye. Turning his attention to the source, he spotted something that made his mouth dry up and chest tighten. There, glittering in the rays of moonlight, was a ring that matched the one he had found on Alma's finger.

"Alma..." He swallowed nervously before continuing. "Do you..."

"Do I...?" Alma repeated, seeming confused by his mannerisms. Or at least, he thought she was confused. He couldn't quite identify it, but confusion seemed close enough.

"Do you remember Altima?" The blonde man finished, casting his gaze to the side in order to avoid looking at Alma. He couldn't bring himself too, not if she didn't remember.

Alma's breathing seemed to stop abruptly for a moment, before being released in a relieved sigh. "Of course I remember, Ramza."

The Judge's head turned to face her so fast he heard the wind from it, but he didn't care. Alma remembered? Then, that meant she loved him too... The relief he felt at that moment couldn't be put into words, surpassing any other feeling he could recall having. Which was funny, in a way, that this gave him more fear and relief than staring down a demon-god. Sighing, he smiled, wrapping an arm around the girl before pulling her closer. "I'm glad..."

The Beoulve daughter smiled back, before leaning closer and giving him a peck. "I'm glad too..."

(-)

A loud roar echoed across the Giza plains, shocking the reunited couple out of their sleep. The male instantly stood up, before helping the lady up as well.

"I can't believe we fell asleep here," Ramza said in disbelief, scanning the darkened plains as best he could after just waking up. His eyes still needed to adjust to the lack of light, noting that they only had the light of the moon and the stars to go on. He also noted that it was rather cold out, feeling slightly glad that the monsters had woken them up.

"Yes, but it's too late to regret it now." Alma commented, also glancing around for the source of the noise. "That came from a panther, right Ramza?" He thought back to the sound that had woke them up, and nodded, recognizing it from the many times he had come against them in what he now considered his true life.

"Thought so," she said, raising her right hand forward. Slowly a card began to materialize out of thin air in front of that hand, which grabbed onto it as soon as it formed. Pulling her arm back, she held the card at the ready.

"Alma! You're still being trained! You can't possibly take them all on!" Ramza yelled, panicking at the thought of his love getting hurt. She wasn't nearly ready enough to take on multiple enemies as this world's Alma.

"It's not like we have a choice. You're still sealed, so I'm the only one who can use Judge cards, as limited as those might be." The girl stated with determination. The blonde man couldn't really argue with that. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually won an argument with his sister, in both lives.

"Judge Law: Self-Defense. Judge Sword - Activate!" The card glowed brightly as it began to change shape into the form of a sword, firmly settled in Alma's hand. Another powerful roar sounded over the plains, followed by a few more lesser roars. Soon, the forms of several panthers appeared through the darkness. There was one blue panther, followed by two yellow ones. A small pack, and likely no problem for a proper team, but a sealed Judge and a Judge-in-training was not a proper team.

Alma and the panthers stared each other down for several moments, the blonde woman taking a defensive stance, before one of the yellow ones ran forward to attack. Alma shifted to the side as it lunged, letting it barely pass by her, before catching it mid-leap in the back with a downward swing, sending it tumbling across the grass on landing. The other two monsters let out roars at that, before both charged forward to attack while the other was dazed.

Hurriedly, the Judge-in-training stuck her hand out again and summoned another card before grasping it with two fingers, stating the usual speech of "Judge Card: Stun!" and throwing it at the remaining yellow panther. The card attached to the beast's surprised face, before it fell over mid-run as it's body locked up and refused to heed its commands. Alma smiled at her successful use of a card in battle, but didn't have time to celebrate as the large blue panther reached her and lashed out with its large clawed paws.

She managed to block the first strike, the force behind the blow nearly knocking the sword out of her hands, and the second strike that made her arms vibrate along with the sword, but was unable to properly deflect the third blow - which sent her guard wide open and the judge sword knocked out of her hands where it fell to the ground with a thud a few feet away.

"Alma!" Ramza moved to intercept, sprinting forward in order to hopefully push her out of the way. He managed to do so just in time to send them both to the ground, claws rending the hair just above their heads. Thinking quickly, he rolled across the ground to where the fallen Judge Sword lay, hefting it up as Alma scurried to her feet and prepared another Judge Card.

The blue panther, believing the girl-hume the lesser threat now that she was weaponless, turned its attention to the boy-hume and let out another roar. Ramza acted on pure instinct, instantly forming a card in front of his now outstretched hand.

"Judge Card: Stop!" He yelled as the card obeyed his will, soaring at high speed towards to azure panther, attaching itself to the forehead of the beast. All function of the beast completely came to a halt, even what little thought processes the creature had. Stuck mid-run, separate from time, the panther could do absolutely nothing as the man now charged towards it, Judge Sword in hand. The sword came down upon the poor panther's head, cleaving it in half.

"I see. So I'm not sealed anymore." Ramza said, grinning, while his sister looked at him in shock. "That makes things much easier." Tossing the sword towards Alma, he once again held his hand towards the other two panthers, forming two cards. This should end it easy enough.

"Judge Card: Teleport!" He yelled, the cards instantly seeking their targets, and in a flash of light, the two remaining panthers disappeared. He honestly didn't care where he sent them, only that they would be far enough away that they wouldn't be able to hinder them as they made their way back to Bervenia Palace's surrounding city.

"How were you able to do that Ramza? I thought you were sealed." Alma asked, confused as to what happened. Quickly walked over to him, picking up her sword along the way before making it disappear.

"I'm not sure myself, yesterday morning I woke up and found that the Green Card was completely gone. I had completely forgotten about that though, until I found myself using the cards on impulse just now." He still didn't know how it had happened, however, he had a clue as to what might have caused it.

"We'll worry about it later. We should probably head back now, before anything else happens." Ramza said, grabbing Alma's hand as he began heading back to the city. "However, I can't say our brothers will be pleased that we stayed out so late."

The walk back was completely without incident, leaving the reunited couple to walk happily together while they still could. Once they reached home, they would have to hide their relationship from everyone.

(-)

Clan Ivalice Snowmen, the name Marche had managed to get Lunias and Euver to go by after getting them interested in the sport known as Hockey, were on the move to complete a new mission. They were heading for Nubswood, to deal with some Con Artists reported to be stealing money from people around there. The team, consisting of Lunias, Marche, and Euver, would normally be considered badly understaffed for such a mission. But, the three were a step up from the ordinary rabble that took these kinds of jobs. The friends chatted as they walked, until coming to the edge of the wood, and the lone human of the group waved a hand to get the two Bangaa's attention.

"Alright, this is it." Marche grinned, feeling pumped already despite the battle not even being in sight. "The guys we're after should be inside, so try to be ready in case they set a trap up or something."

"Hmph." Lunias grunted, taking a step inside the woods. "Keep in mind who the amateur is here."

"Hey!" Marche objected, following after the bangaa as he moved further inside. "I'm just as good as you guys are! Probably even a little better at some things!"

"Better? I don't think sssssso." Euver piped up.

"Oh yeah? At least I can sssssay thingsss normally!" The hockey player retorted, earning him a growl and a punch in the side of the head from Lunias and Euver.

"Making fun of how we ssspeak isss a easssy way to get beaten up." Lunias commented, though the small smirk on his face showed he didn't hold a grudge over it.

Rubbing his head, Marche winced as he felt a forming bump. "Okay, Okay. Didn't have to hit me that hard..."

"Isss the poor Hume too fragile to play with the Bangaa?" Euver chuckled, earning another indignant cry of "Hey!" from their companion.

Their travel and banter was interrupted suddenly, as Lunias stopped and put a claw in front of Marche to halt him as well. Squinting, the Bangaa frowned. "I sssaw sssomething, up ahead."

"Probably our mark." Marche grinned, pushing Lunias' hand out of his face. "No point standing around, let's just go get them!"

That said, the hume took off, the two bangaa following right behind him. In his mind, the best plan of action was to attack as quickly and as hard as possible, which would give them no time in which to try and counter. Jocks weren't very well known for their strategies, and as one, Marche once again had no clue what he was setting himself up for. He weaved around the trees with a grace that belied both of his Bangaa partner's impression of him, both of them falling behind the blonde man.

Finally Marche made it to a small clearing and saw his targets. Without bothering to look around, he charged towards the first one in view, drawing his sword. The element of surprise was on his side.

That's what Marche believed to be true, until he found his left foot being pulled up with an alarming rate. He only managed a quick yelp before he was completely lifted off the ground, dropping his sword in surprise.

"Well, well. What have we here?" A hume said from below him, wearing quite the grin. There were four other people there, another hume, a Moogle, a Bangaa and a Nu mou mage from the look of it. Marche struggled against the rope, pulling himself up in order to try and undo the knot around his foot. Unfortunately, the knot didn't loosen at all.

"Poor fool, charging into the unknown like that. Really, you should know better if you're going to come after us!" The man wearing the metal helmet said confidently. If only he had not been caught in this trap, he would have showed them a real fight.

"Let me down from here!" The blonde man yelled twisting his body, hoping to get loose of the rope. He needed to hold onto his weapon next time.

"Nah, I think I'll let you stay up there. Besides, it'd be good target practice." The man in the straw hat taunted, showing his bow to emphasize his point. Marche cursed under his breath, staring at the group defiantly. Not only were they con-artists, according to the mission, but they were quite full of themselves. Where the hell were Lunias and Euver?

Suddenly the blonde found himself falling to the ground as the rope connecting to his foot snapped. It was a good thing that man with the bow was rather unprepared, thinking that it was safe to stand under him while he was tied, because Marche fell right on top of him, receiving much less pain than the man below him. Acting quickly, he grabbed his sword and stabbed the man with the bow before any of them could react, and then backed away. Now that he knew what he was up against it was probably better to be a bit more cautious.

What had caused his sudden release from the trap revealed itself a moment later, a dark skinned woman with a pair of long rabbit ears notching another arrow stepped out from the cover of the trees. With a tilt of her head in his direction, though not taking her eyes off the Con Artists, she spoke in a calm and precise manner to Marche. "Leave, I will take care of this."

Marche blinked at the virtual order, before shaking his head and getting ready to fight. "No way. I don't run from fights, and besides, it'd be pretty lousy of me to leave a girl all by herself to fight off these guys. Especially after helping me out of that trap."

The Viera frowned, repeating herself in a slightly more commanding manner. "Leave. You will only get in the way."

"Don't act like we're not here!" The leader of the con men shouted, irritated at being ignored. "Nobody is going anywhere! We'll be the ones leaving after we take all the gil you have!"

The remaining criminals readied themselves, just as a flash of light signaled the appearance of a Judge and their Chocobo Mount. Raising a hand, the Judge spoke in a particularly grandiose manner than usual. "Since both sides are ready for Combat, I shall announce the law! For this battle, Combat Law: No Techniques will be in effect!"

"Whatever, let's just get this over with!" The Moogle Thief commented, the others in his group nodding their agreement, before moving to attack their two opponents - With exception to the Nu Mou, who hung back and began chanting. Marche ran forward to meet his enemies, and the Viera let loose an arrow into the shoulder of the Bangaa - who unfortunately didn't seem very bothered by it.

Considering the number they were up against, and the disadvantage they were at, Marche didn't even try to hold back, utilizing all of his knowledge of hockey violence. Going for the smallest first, he tackled the Moogle thief to the ground, locking the poor creature's arms with his feet before he bashed his head with the pummel of his sword, effectively knocking it out. By that point, the fighter was upon him, blade aiming for his midsection. Marche winced as the blade cut into his armor, and cut at his side.

"Ouch!" He yelled, as he punched the man in the face with his free hand. The man staggered back, growling as he readied his sword for another strike. The man acted as if he was going to charge, but stopped and jumped away from Marche, which confused the blonde greatly. Why would he do that? He was wide open.

It was then he started to feel unimaginable pain that most people he knew would not survive. He was getting struck by lightning! He could barely think straight anymore as magical lightning ran through his body, and he fell to the ground twitching. Was this the magic Lunias and Euver spoke of? This world was not a joke, as he first thought it was. Hell, despite the few battles he did have, he wasn't sure if this world of fantasy was completely real.

"Get up!" The Viera from before yelled, shooting off another arrow, this time aiming for the fighter that was about to go in to end it. Sure he wouldn't be dead, not while the Judge was there, but the lack of a distraction would be pretty bad. "Get up or we will lose this!" She yelled again, notching another arrow while he struggled to get up. This wasn't looking so good.

"Thissss issss what you get for russssshing ahead," a familiar voice with a Bangaan accent stated, followed by a clang as weapons clashed together. Lunias smirked as his claw covered hand had caught the fighters blade easily, before wrenching it out of the man's hand. The Bangaa ducked under the desperate punch that came afterwards, before delivering a slash with the claw weapon across the man's torso, forcing him to clutch the wound in pain. The opposing sides Bangaa came up behind Lunias, preparing to deliver a double-handed blow to the back of the head, when Euver came rushing in and struck the off-guard white monk in the side with a well-placed flying shoulder tackle, sending the two several feet away.

Lunias grinned as he "gently" knocked out the injured fighter, turning to Euver as he curb stomped the dazed Bangaa. "Good timing, Euver."

"Russshing in hasss itsss benefitsss if you do it at the right time." The other responded, clearly referring to Marche's abandoning of strategy entirely. Anything further, however, was disrupted as a ball of flame came out of nowhere and struck Euver, sending him tumbling with a roar of pain to the ground.

"Such amateur behavior." The Nu Mou responsible huffed, before quirking an eyebrow as he got a look at Lunias. Those markings looked familiar, though he was having a hard time recalling just what they were. It wasn't anything common, but it wasn't meaningless either... Snapping his fingers, the black mage pointed at the remaining Bangaa with a sneer. "You're one of those cursed ones from Ahli, aren't you?"

As soon as the word "cursed" had left the Nu Mou's mouth, Lunias' eyes narrowed to practical slits and a deep growl emanated from his throat. Clenching his hands tighter than he probably should have, the Bangaa hissed out a response. "There is no curse! That was a lie!"

Marche blinked, turning to Shara before asking. "Er... What's this about a curse?"

Shara regarded him for a few silent moments before speaking. "The curse of Ahli. Rumors say those from the Jagd Ahli are cursed, and the magic of that place destroyed itself. Those who survived Ahli refuse to acknowledge this, however. Most were said to go into a rage, more rumors saying it was the effects of the curse."

Euver, meanwhile, was pulling himself to his feet and glancing worriedly at the other Bangaa. The Black Mage, however, just laughed as he prepared another spell and responded to the denial. "Deny it all you want, Cursed Bangaa, but that Tattoo is a marker of your status as cursed. The kingdom wouldn't go through such an effort for no reason."

As soon as he finished speaking, the Nu Mou finished his spell and a diamond of ice began to form above the enraged Lunias. The White Monk pulled his fist down, before thrusting it up above him and causing a compressed burst of air to smash into the ice spell, shattering it before it could be completed. The shards burst into blue puffs of magical energy, harmlessly dispersing moments later. Grinning in a not at all pleasant manner, Lunias stepped towards the black mage and prepared to beat the surprised Nu Mou into paste.

"Luniassss! Ssstop!" Euver yelled, rushing to the best of his ability to his friend, attempting to hold him back from behind. However, he was no match for the angry Bangaa, who had no trouble getting out of his wounded friend's grip, and finally made over to the now quivering black mage.

"See, it is true, you cursed ones are maniacs, berserker maniacs!" The Nu mou taunted again, despite his fear. If things went well enough, the Judge would stop this before he was killed, and send that cursed one to jail, never to be seen again.

"That'ssssss it!" Lunias yelled, hefting the Nu Mou up by his robes. In one quick movement he punched into the black mage's stomach with his clawed hand, yelling.

"Air Render!" The Nu Mou flew back, straw hat flying off in a different direction, and bashed his head into a tree before slumping to the bottom, knocked out. The Bangaa white monk glared at the fallen mage, his clawed hand trembling as he tried to force himself to stop attacking. Killing was not something he did. He was different from the others.

A loud whistle was heard across the forest, catching everyone's attention. Marche could only watch as the Judge rushed towards his friend's position with determination. This didn't look like it was going to end very well.

"Combat Law Infringement: Use of Technique," the Judge stated, a red card forming in the his raised hand. "Go to prison!" He thrust his hand forward, letting the card go and seek out its target. Despite being just a card, Lunias seemed to react as if it were one of the most painful things in the world. Marche gasped as Lunias, his friend, burst into light and disappeared completely.

What was going on? Did Euver and Lunias forget to mention this aspect of the laws to him or something? Still, it didn't seem right. "Why did you send him to jail? What did he deserve to go to such a harsh place?" Marche asked, forcing himself up into a kneeling position, trying to stand up.

"He disobeyed the law." The Judge spayed emotionlessly. It seemed that the Judge cared nothing of reasons behind such actions, or the fact that the con artists were the ones in the wrong in the first place. It didn't really make any sense to him... But arguing over it would probably just get him arrested as well. The Judge took no heed of any of this, however, and raised his hand. "Victory, Ivalice Snowmen and Guest."

That said, the Judge vanished without another comment, leaving behind a frustrated Marche and Euver. Shara observed the thing silently, but also feeling that the situation was unfair. Seeing the look on the hume's face, the Viera offered a comment. "You can get him released, if you go to the prison and pay the bail fine."

Euver nodded at the statement as he made his way over, ignoring his wounds. "Ssshe'sss right. We ssshould make for the prissson and get Luniasss releasssed."

Marche nodded. He couldn't just leave his friend there anyways, even if it wasn't simple as paying a fine. "Yeah... Let's go then! Lunias will get mad if we just hang around while he's sitting in jail."

"If you don't object, I'd like to accompany you." Shara spoke up. "You did help out, after all. It's the least I can do to see your friend freed."

"Eh? Alright I guess." Marche shrugged, turning to the Bangaa. "That alright with you, Euver?"

"Sssoundsss good to me." The Bangaa agreed. "Before we go, though, we ssshould turn in the missssssion completetion notice. The money will help us pay the fee."

"Good idea." The hockey playing youth nodded, rubbing his sore side a little. They could always get patched up after springing Lunias, but that injury was going to be annoying until then.

(-)

"I see you have decided to be present once more, Ramza," Dycedarg stated, stroking his goatee before he went back to eating his breakfast. Ramza merely glanced across the table towards his eldest brother, shrugging. Since when did Dycedarg care about him? Any memories he had of Dycedarg involved them barely regarding each other, or fighting each other.

Deciding he didn't need to respond, the youngest male Beoulve continued to eat his breakfast, which he wasn't even sure was real. Scrambled Chocobo eggs were good and all, but given how this world wasn't real, he was beginning to feel unsure if it was safe to eat. However, he still had memories of this world, where he grew up to be a Judge. Based on that, and the past few days he survived, the food was probably safe enough. Damn paranoia.

He glanced over at his sister, who was busy eating her own meal slowly, as was befitting noble ladies. She looked over to him, and flashed him a loving smile, one that he recognized from their days in the old world. Ramza smiled in return before he focused on finishing his meal. Even with Alma at the table with him, he still couldn't stand the presence of the other members of his family, and his gut wrenched at this horrible mockery.

He stood up without saying a word, pushed his chair in, and left, not even saying a word to his father. He was going to do something about this mess, and the whoever caused this situation would pay dearly.

(-)

Ramza had retreated to his room, and was currently trying to think up some plan of action that didn't have a good chance of making enemies of the entire fake-world he was in and ending up biting off more than even he could chew. So far the only thing that came to mind was simply leaving, which wouldn't really accomplish much in and of itself. He was jerked out of his thoughts by a light knock on the door, and he scooted his chair back in order to stand from his position in front of his desk. A short stride over to the door, a twist of the handle, and the young judge found himself face to face with his sister - Who quickly entered and closed the door behind her.

"Ramza... Are you alright?" Alma asked, worried about how the blonde man was handling this. His silence and near-refusal to acknowledge the... imposter-family or whatever they were... meant he was having some difficulty dealing with the strange change to their world - Literally and figuratively.

"Yeah... I'm just trying to sort things out." He responded, attempting to seem more cheerful for his sisters peace of mind. He took a seat on the edge of his bed, thoughts briefly drifting back to how unnerving it was to be faced with almost exact replicas of his deceased family members.

"Ramza..." Alma sat down next to him, before leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek. "You don't have to keep things bottled up around me." She gave a giggle, adding on another comment. "Besides, you're a bad liar."

Ramza chuckled sheepishly, slightly embarrassed at the fact that Alma always seemed to be able to see right through him when he was trying to hide things from her. She was right though, he wasn't like he was alone in this - And it wasn't fair to act like he was to Alma. Nodding, he gave a sigh as he tried to find the words to express himself properly, and to get Alma's thoughts on what they should do. "I know it's hard on you too, but, I just can't help but remember facing Dycedarg and learning all the terrible things he did. To father, to Zalbaag, he even tried to do things to us. To be honest... I want to run him through just on seeing his face. But then, there's these other memories... He wasn't the most kind brother then either, but..."

Ramza trailed off, finding it hard to speak more about it. His sister still continued to smile, supporting him in her own way, placing a warm hand on his trembling one. It had quite a calming effect on the young judge, and he smiled slightly despite his earlier anger and pain.

"Ramza, I couldn't imagine what it was like to kill both our brothers, even if it was justified. But now you have a chance to be with our brothers again, and try to make better memories to replace those horrible, scarring memories. At least, that's how I feel about this situation." Alma rubbed the back of his hand, doing her best to soothe the man she loved. It was something she had become very good at over the years they spent together.

The blond man nodded, finally understanding why she wasn't breaking apart like he was. If that was the case, he had an opportunity that would be foolish to pass up, and in the end, he would be better for it. It would be hard, very hard, especially when it came to Dycedarg. His character hadn't changed all that much from that of the old world, but Ramza was going to give it a shot. He owed Alma that much.

The judge then pulled the younger girl into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "No matter what the issue is, you always seem to be able to break me out of it."

"Of course!," Alma said, grinning widely, pushing the boy back. She lifted up her left hand, and pointed at the ring that was on her ring finger. The ring that he had given her. "This ring represents an unbreakable vow to support you no matter what. I would not allow myself to wear it if I couldn't do that much." She then leaned her head onto Ramza's shoulder, sighing contentedly.

"I seem to recall that the ring had another meaning as well." Ramza stated, smirking mischievously.

"Nope, there wasn't," the girl responded, not missing a beat.

"Oh really?" Ramza eyed her suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Damn," The judge cursed, snapping his finger in defeat. Alma just leaned in more, wrapping her arms around his chest and closed her eyes.

(-)

Marche blinked once, before responding to the outrageous number he'd just been told. "It costs how much? You could probably buy a house or something with that kind of money!"

The Bangaa behind the counter simply shrugged. "That'sss the cossst of bail for your friend."

"That's totally unfair, though!" The hockey player jabbed a finger at the clerk in an accusing manner. "I heard people before us paying for bail, and it was way cheaper than that!"

"That price isss for criminalsss..." Euver added, having recognized the cost, frowning as he got an idea of where this was heading.

"Criminalsss, or other dangerousss individualsss." The clerk nodded. "Your friend isss a berssserker of Jagd Ahli, thatsss why hisss bail isss ssso high." The Bangaa glared down from his desk, not particularly enjoying where this was going. He would probably have to get the security in here to drag away a few of the rambunctious guests.

"So what? That other guy started it! He didn't just randomly flip out!" Marche objected loudly, Euver nodding his agreement. The people behind them in line were starting to get antsy, either seeing where this was headed or simply wanting to complete their business here and leave.

"Thatsss the bail. Either pay it, or leave. I don't care which." The Bangaa responded harshly, growing irritated with this prolonged discussion. If they didn't get the hint, he'd just get security to throw them out before they could blink.

For several moments, Marche looked like he was going to protest again, but eventually sighed. "We can't afford it... So I guess we'll just leave for now... We'll be back though! C'mon Euver, we need to figure something out."

The addressed Bangaa nodded, giving a final glare at the clerk, before following after Marche to the exit where the Viera they had run into on the mission prior was waiting. Seeing that the two were returning alone, the Viera sighed and correctly guessed what the problem was. "His bail is too high?"

Marche nodded, but determinedly headed out the door with the other two following after. "We'll get him out soon."

(-)

A small, yellow covered figure sprinted quickly through the dark, stone-covered streets of the Moogle trading town; Bugaba Port, his cape flapping as his small legs carried him. The Moogle theif quickly rounded a corner, leaning against the wall as he leaned slowly back, looking for his pursuers. He sighed in relief, not spotting any of the group of beings that were chasing him, and continued on his way. One of his small, furry hands went to feel the small pouch that was tied to his waist, making sure it was still there. He couldn't lose, not after all that had happened.

Suddenly he found himself bumping into something that was definitely not a wall, especially considering the metallic sound it let off. Completely off balance as he was, the Moogle fell down to the ground, and shook his head in irritation before looking up to see the offender. One of the Mog Knights that was chasing him before now stood over him, a grin spread wide across his white face.

"How?" Was all he could get out before he was hoisted onto his feet by the Mog Knight that had just appeared behind him. This made no sense! He checked for them, and didn't see them. How did they manage this?

"You shouldn't be so surprised! Kupo!" Came the voice of someone the Moogle Theif knew, and saw another Moogle, the leader of the group chasing him walk out from behind the Mog Knight in front of him.

"After all, we run these streets. You had no chance of escaping us in the first place." The Moogle smiled wickedly, snapping his fingers. As soon as the sound was heard, both Mog Knights drew their blades, just waiting for the next order. "Besides, you're wearing yellow. Only the blind wouldn't see you." The two Mog Knights chuckled at the remark.

"Now why don't you just make this easy and hand over the Gem. Kupo! It'll easily pay off the debts you owe."

"I can't do that, Kupo! It's the only memento I have from my father!"

"Musty, Musty, Musty. Didn't you know? Everything belongs to the boss. You owe him your life. Kupo!" The leader shook his head in disappointment at the younger Moogle. Clearly the thief didn't know his place quite yet, and would need to be tought a lesson.

"Hold him there, boys. I'm gonna show this upstart what happens when you don't pay the boss his dues," The leader said, walking closer to yellow clad Moogle, grinning mischievously at the fearful face before him. Balling up his hands, he got ready to hurt the poor fellow before him.

His hands moved out in a flash, grabbing onto the antennae sticking out from the Moogle's bandanna, and pulled. Screams of agony followed, as the leader continued to pull harder and harder, while his man held the poor Moogle in place. Finally, after a minute of pulling, whatever held the antennae to the Moogle thief's head lost its will to continue fighting, and let go of its attachment. The leader laughed a bit before tossing the red-ball tipped antennae to the ground while the restrained moogle continued to scream in both pain and shame.

"Going to give up? Next will be much worse for you. I guarantee it." He said, his lackeys grinning as they continued to hold the tortured Moogle in place. Musty looked up to the leader, and spit to the other Moogle's foot.

"Go get eaten by a Bangaa. You'll get nothing." The leader only continued to smile. He loved it when his prey played hard to break. It made his job so much more enjoyable.

"Turn him around boys. The real fun is about to start." The men followed the order, and turned the Thief around so his back faced their leader. Musty struggled, worried about what would happen to him. This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to have been caught. But no matter what, he couldn't let them have his father's treasured gem. Not after all he went through to get this far.

"Now just hold still Musty, this won't hurt a bit! Kupo!" The leader said. Then Musty started to feel tension on one of his wings. 'No! They wouldn't!' He thought to himself, trying to look back to see, but failed. And then he screamed louder than he had before when they ripped off his pompom. They really were ripping off his wings!

Giving one last tug, the leader had successfully ripped the wing clean out of his poor victim, grinning maniacally. "Did I say it wouldn't hurt? I meant it was going to hurt like no tomorrow, Kupo!" The poor thief gasped, trying to ignore the pain from the wound left behind from the ripped off wing.

"You do know that those Bangaa's treat Moogle wings as a delicacy right? We can't very well just give them one, kupo! No time to rest!" The lead Moogle said, before beginning to tear out the second wing. The pain was as unbearable as before, but at least it distracted him from the pain of the already missing parts. Not a very beneficial distraction he supposed. Once that wing was fully out, the two Mog knights threw him to the ground, and stood over him, waiting for their next command. One of them decided to kick him, and pressed his foot against one of the open wounds on his back, forcing Musty to let out another scream.

"Now Musty, we don't really want to do anything else to you, Kupo!" The leader said, pulling out a jagged knife. "But if you don't cooperate, we might have to take more off of you. I hear those hume females just love the feel of Moogle fur. Kupo!"

Musty glared at the lead Moogle from his position on the ground. Nothing was worth getting skinned for, that he was sure about. Even his dad's gem wasn't worth that much. Getting two his knees, he reached his hand into the pouch that held the gem. He pulled the orange-red gem out, and raised his hand above his head.

"If you want it so bad, you can..." And he stopped in his movement to throw the glowing gem to the ground in hopes of breaking it. Suddenly felt as if he had just gone through...a whole different life! One as a hume? It seemed so strange to him. To live as two different creatures?

Were these his memories of a different life? No, that wasn't right. They were definitely his.

The other three Moogle's stared at the thief for a few seconds, shocked that he would try to throw the gem at the ground. When he stopped mid-throw, the didn't know what happened. Finally, the leader looked to his subordinates.

"What are you waiting for, Take the gem from him! Kupo!" He said, pointing. They nodded and went down, grabbing his arms in order to force the gem from his hands.

Finally realizing what was happening, Musty panicked. He couldn't lose it...the Zodiac Brave that Ramza had trusted him with. He needed to do something! He needed his gun, or maybe a sword...or maybe...that. The stone in his hand began to glow brightly, engulfing the Moogles in its orange-red light. Finally, when it dissipated, both Mog knights found themselves holding on, barely, to a giant metal man shaped being.

"Wh-wh-What the heck is that? Kupo!" The leader yelled in shock as he stared at the colossus that had just replaced their prey. "Where's that coward Musty!"

Red eyes beamed to life, towering high above the Moogles - Though it wasn't truly that much taller than a full grown hume, although much wider. Mechanical gears clicked and turned as the things stance straightened, pulling the Mog Knights off their feet and dangling in the air as it lifted its arms up.

"SYSTEMS ACTIVATED... LOGS OF RECENT EVENTS MISSING... MACHINEST MUSTADIO CONFIRMED OPERATOR." A mechanical voice boomed out from the helmeted head, which cast a shadow over the machines face and only let it's eyes shine through. "SITUATION... HOSTILE?"

The end of the last statement ended up as more of a question, as the robot known as Worker 8, or just 8 in some cases, took in the apparent assailants. "MOOGLES... NON-THREAT."

"Like hell they aren't!" A voice interrupted, coming out of a crude voice pipe originating somewhere in the chest and leading to a small opening on the side. "Those 'Non-threats' ripped off my wings! AND my antenna!"

"...MACHINEST MUSTADIO DID NOT POSSESS THOSE ANATOMICAL PARTS ACCORDING TO RECORDS..." 8 responded, still confused. "WILL ATTRIBUTE TO UNKNOWN MAGICAL ANOMALLY DETECTED EARLIER."

"Anomaly? Nevermind, let's teach these guys a lesson first and then we can talk about whatever is going on!"

"AFFIRMATIVE. GRANTING OPERATIONAL CONTROL."

The Mog Knights had since let go and taken a good distance away from the machine, their boss hiding somewhat behind them. Lifting it's arms above its head in a intimidating pose, the voice they recognized as Musty's rang out once more.

"Normally I don't really like beating up on weaklings... But you guys really deserve it. So, how about a good dose of karma!"

Before the Moogles could flee, the machine reached out with a surprisingly swift lunge, the metal hand enclosing around all three Moogles at once and uncomfortably squishing them ever so slightly together. Well, slightly for the machine. To the Moogles, it was kind of hard to breathe. The other hand rose up to hang above their heads, near the brightly colored pompoms of the three - The Mog Knights' ones were red, while the leader's was Purple.

"There was this saying, something that Church used to spout all the time."

"YOU ARE REFERRING TO THE PHILOSOPHICAL TEACHINGS OF GLABADOS, SPECIFICALLY THE PHRASE 'DO UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD HAVE DONE TO YOURSELF.' ARE YOU NOT?"

"That's the one! Good memory, 8. Well, you heard him. And you guys haven't been very nice to other people."

That said, the free hand clamped down on one of the red pompoms, and slowly but surely tugged on it with deliberate care. For two reasons, one being that a quick jerk would probably take their head off with it, and the other because it'd hurt more that way. The Mog Knight who had been picked first let out similar cries of agony as he himself had not long before, until the antenna broke off. The same happened with the next Mog Knight, and the leader started to sweat and struggle in vain against the solid metal grip pinning him to his two subordinates.

"Please, Kupo! Musty, anything else! I couldn't show my face to the boss if you did that, Kupo! I'd be lucky to just get thrown out!"

"Tch, what happened to the tough and smooth guy? I haven't even hurt you yet and you've cracked." Musty sighed from inside the machine. "If you wanted mercy, you should have shown some!"

Done speaking, the hand clamped down on the final pompom, and slowly tugged it off. The leader, in a somewhat karmic twist, screamed and cried the loudest any of them had, and had completely given up his attempts to struggle free. Satisfied that he had gotten his vengeance, Musty dropped the three Moogles roughly on the ground.

"I should probably rip your wings out too, but I'm not as cruel and twisted as you are. Call me a sap, I suppose."

Finished speaking, the sound of gears and the hiss of steam sounded as the chest of the machine unlocked, falling open like a door to reveal a blonde hume with a ponytail dressed up in thick clothing similar to that of a blacksmith. Seeing the astonished looks on the Moogles' faces, he shrugged.

"Believe it or not, it's still me. Sorta. Anyways, you guys get out of here. I don't want to see you messing around with anyone again, got it? Or 8 and I will finish that proverb."

The leader stumbled to his feet, still sobbing pathetically, and hurried away into the distance. The two Mog Knights, however, stayed put, causing Musty to raise a eyebrow in confusion.

"What? I said you can leave."

The two Mog Knights looked at each other, before nodding and standing up as straight as they could manage.

"We... Don't want to go back, Kupo." One explained, the other picking up where he left off. "We're just muscle, Kupo. Without our pompom's, nobody will want to hire us, Kupo. We'd be lucky to even be left alive, Kupo."

"Oh, right. I forgot about that." Musty nodded, putting a hand to his chin in thought. As he was thinking, a bright light engulfed him and 8, shrinking down into the shape of a Moogle - Sans pompom and wings - once more before dying out. The Mog Knights blinked once more, surprised again. Musty hadn't noticed, still having a paw to his chin in thought, before nodding. "Okay, you guys can come with me. I need to figure out whats going on, and I could use the help."

Shrugging off their continued confusion, the Mog Knights nodded energetically. "Thank you, Kupo!"

"Well then my fellow Mogs, I guess our first order of business is to get ourselves an Airship. Kupo!" Musty proclaimed, grinning a bit.

"...I don't think any of us has the money for that. Kupo." One of the Mog knights said.

"Also, who would sell us one considering we are all lacking our pompoms?" The other questioned, feeling confused.

"Who said we were going to buy it? We are going to steal it!"

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JSB: I know this took a while to get out. We thought of going over and fixing a few things. However, it's been almost a year now, and we haven't looked at it. So we might as well post it as it is. Sorry for the wait.


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